The Long Dark
by Adam Kadmon
Summary: After the War, the orphan Sakura meets Lady Soryu.
1. Relocation

The Long Dark

Chapter 1: Relocation

Disclaimer: I do not own Evangelion.

/\/\/\/\

"I think we're almost there."

She wasn't sure if Hikari meant it now, or if she had a different understanding of the passage of distance and time. Sakura did not know where they were headed beyond the name and brief glance at a map before they left the capital. District 20 was a small mining settlement on the edge of the third Tokyo's ninth prefecture, nestled in a crescent of mountains. Being so far south from the frontlines it remained mostly intact, and as such was not a focus of government attention or funds for reconstruction. That was fine, as far as Sakura was concerned. If the way they ran their orphanages was any indication those in power were either corrupt or incompetent.

She turned back to what remained of the world outside the carriage window. After the provisional structures of Tokyo were behind them hours ago there was nothing to look at but ruin. For miles the abandoned trenches of battlefields zigzagged frenetically over scorched earth, covered in tangles of barbwire and pockmarked with deep craters. The distant shells of dead cities ran along the horizon.

Aside from the clop of the horse and the creak of the carriage the world was silent. All flora and fauna were blasted away years ago, and it would be years still before anything returned. But as they travelled farther south signs of life flickered through the blight: husks of shattered trees and skeletal bushes began to dot the land, black birds hung overhead. Then the trees stopped being husks, the bushes defiantly sported buds, grass speckled the earth. The blasted level landscape started to rise and fall into natural hills and valleys. Small dusty animals scurried along the roadside. Birds chirped.

Sakura pushed the carriage window open and poked her head out. The air was uncluttered by gun powder and ash and smoke and people. She breathed deeply. It was unusual but not offensive.

She looked behind them. Nature's reclamation was already crowding out the War's devastation from sight. She looked ahead. More unknown greens and browns waited.

"Sakura," Hikari said, "that's a bit dangerous. Please come back in."

Halfway out the carriage, she relented. She kept the window open for her hand. A soft breeze slipped through her fingers. Hikari frowned at it.

"I saw mountains ahead of us," Sakura told her.

"Oh?"

"They were on the map at the depot before we left."

Hikari made a politely puzzled face.

"I think we're almost there," Sakura said.

"Wonderful. Hopefully we'll make it before sunset. It would be difficult to move in in the dark."

She peeked back outside. Mountains were so big, Sakura thought. Pictures in books didn't do them justice. Seeing the land jut into the sky so far was intimidating.

"District 20 isn't very large," Hikari told her, "but it's safe and peaceful. A soldier I met in the service, Mr. Aoba, was born here. He told me about it."

"He was a soldier?" Sakura asked. "Did he know my brother?"

She smiled apologetically. "Sadly, no. I only met Mr. Aoba during our decommissioning process. I did ask if he knew Toji, though."

"Oh."

"The War spanned most of the country. Hundreds of thousands were conscripted, and most lost their lives. Soldiers often didn't know who they were serving right next to."

The carriage rumbled on. The mountains crept closer as the dirt road stretched onward. Eventually it wound around the side of a wide hill, through trees and brush. It rose above the tree line and District 20 lay before them. It was a crowded village spiraling out from a central bell tower, and up the sides of the surrounding hills. There was no careful civic planning like the newly built capital; here available space was seized and utilized without an overriding vision, resulting in dense twists and surprising verticality. From their distance the settlement had the look of overgrown mold in a shallow ditch.

They descended into the valley. It was dusk, most of the residents indoors as city custodians set gaslight street lamps to ward off the coming dark. The carriage wove through snaking streets of dirt, through a shuttered market, past a post office and by a row of stores to a thin edge of a residential cluster. The sun slipped halfway down the valley walls before the carriage finally halted. The coachman rapped twice on the roof.

"Your stop," he announced.

Hikari smiled and opened the carriage door herself. She turned to Sakura.

"Welcome home," she said.

/\/\/\/\

Home was now a narrow two-story house on a short street of other narrow two-story houses. Low fences surrounded each, marking out thin yards of dusty moss. A public water spigot sat in a small park before the road curved away into the town proper.

They exited the carriage as the coachman began unpacking their sparse luggage. Sakura stretched the soreness from her legs and back. Hikari produced a key from her coat pocket and unlocked a squeaky front door. The first floor was dominated by an open kitchen, with a low partition fencing in a living room and fireplace. Tucked under the staircase to the second was the bathroom. Upstairs were three bare rooms. Hikari paused as they looked into the last one.

"This is your room, Sakura." She handed her a key.

"I have my own room?"

"Of course. I made sure we'd have enough space."

Hikari smiled and quietly made her way back downstairs.

Sakura hesitated at the threshold before entering, working through a sensation of trespassing. A thin futon was curled against the far wall beside an oil lantern. Aside from that the room was empty. She inched along the faded wood floor, turning to see each uncovered wall. One window sat to the left, overlooking the front of the house.

The room was slender; she could leap from one side to the other. It was more space than she ever had to herself.

Apart from the bedding she wondered what she was supposed to do with the room. Did Hikari expect her to fill it with other objects? She remembered the key, clutched in her palm. It was small and old, looped on a string with a tag that read Sakura. She slipped it into her front pocket and wondered at the alien concept of privacy.

She heard noise outside. She tugged the window open, looking down past the porch roof to the street below. The coachman was nearly finished unloading; Hikari directed under the dull glow of gaslight. He lugged the last bag inside and she handed over a sum. Sakura was largely ignorant of financial matters since she never had any money to her name, and wondered if it was expensive to move two people from the capital to the backwoods. She watched Hikari head back inside and left her room for the first floor.

"Can I help you unpack?" Sakura asked as Hikari locked the front door.

"That can wait. We should eat first."

"But the markets I saw in town were all closed…"

"Not a problem." Hikari produced a cloth bag from a suitcase containing bread and fruit. "I did some shopping before we left Tokyo. Um, it's nothing fancy for our first meal in our new home, though…"

"It's better than nothing," she stated, not meaning any offense.

They lit candles and sat on a blanket on the floor to eat. The fruit was too ripe and the bread was too dry. Sakura did not protest.

"We'll start at the academy tomorrow," Hikari told her. "I'm sorry it's so sudden but it's important to resume your education as soon as possible."

A lost cause, Sakura thought. She hadn't learned anything from an instructor in years.

"And," Hikari went on, "I need to start earning a living again."

She was to be the academy's administrative assistant, her clerical credentials from the military securing the job from afar. The true money was in the capital and the service as they rebuilt the country, and the small District 20 jumped at the chance to have her experience.

Sakura was not complaining about moving so far from Tokyo but did wonder why. Hikari left a stable income, family and friends to live as a stranger in a strange land. She asked her if she was sure before they left the depot; Sakura didn't want to be the reason she uprooted her entire life.

Hikari smiled at her: _"I think we could both use a fresh start."_

Nothing kept Sakura tied to the capital. Even her brother, killed in action, only had a makeshift memorial in a city clearing. His body wasn't salvageable, like thousands of other soldiers. She and Hikari visited the monument wall before departing, constructed to immortalize the defensive last stand so many made.

It was still hard to believe he was dead. She hadn't seen him in person in years, their only contact through sporadic letters. Neither ever had good news to report so the correspondence was mostly reminiscing about better times, or Toji relating stories about their parents, gone before Sakura could recall them clearly, or dreaming of a future neither could see.

The army postal service was unreliable at best, in all regards but one. Personal mail was haphazardly delivered but death notices to families were sent out with the strictest adherence to timeliness. She knew what the plain manila envelope was before opening it, holding the basic stationary's nothing weight that informed her Big Brother Toji died in battle, without divulging any relevant information about the when, where, how or why. Only that the government was grateful for his conscripted service against the invading Host.

The following months were a haze, from the waning days of the War, to the Armistice, reconstruction beginning, and then Hikari visiting the orphanage early last week to introduce herself as her sister-in-law.

Toji never mentioned a bride, or a girlfriend in his letters; Sakura wasn't suspicious, just curious. It was strange to imagine her brother growing and changing, let alone finding a mate, in her absence. Hikari explained the two of them wed in secret since her family did not approve of Toji. That sounded entirely too plausible to Sakura. With no other relatives, she accepted Hikari's offer to become her guardian.

She and Toji weren't married long before he died. Hikari had no time to feel joy before mourning as a widow. They might not know each other, Hikari told her when they met, but Toji loved them both and that had to mean something.

Staying in Tokyo his empty grave's shadow would forever be over them. Sakura knew he wouldn't want the people he loved to be burdened with sorrow and regret, especially people whose only connection was through his death. Maybe a fresh start was indeed in order.

They finished dinner and unpacked a few necessities. Hikari suggested they break, hoping for a good night's rest before tomorrow. They headed upstairs and she lingered at her door.

"Goodnight, Sakura. Welcome home."

"Goodnight."

Sakura shut her bedroom door. The crescent moon glowed in her window over the street. She unfurled the futon over the rough floor and collapsed. She stared up through the dark at the ceiling. The silence was eerie. It was the first time in five years she slept in a room that was not overcrowded with human misery in creaky bunk beds.

She shut her eyes and listened to her breath, waiting for fatigue to overwhelm her.

"I'm home," she said. "I'm home."

/\/\/\/\

"Welcome," the woman greeted them with a bow at the door of the academy the next morning. "I'm the headmistress, Maya Ibuki. Pleased to meet you."

Hikari and Sakura returned the formality, and were ushered inside. The girl's academy sat on a flat hill at the town's edge, rising above the encroaching forest to the west. It was old, converted from a private library when the owner lost his fortune in failed overseas ventures. Shelves of books still ran along the floors. It retained an air of wealth in its design, although faded from heavy use.

"This way, please," Maya said. She was prim and proper, dressed conservatively with matching mannerisms. She was polite, but made sure everyone knew who was in charge.

She led them down a short front hall to a faculty office made a maze by a series of long clerical desks. Most were filled by other women hard at work. Maya directed Hikari to hers, already crowded by financial reports and personnel files.

"Looks like I arrived just in time," she half-joked.

Maya smiled in apology. "Please excuse the mess. We just finished midterms."

"I look forward to starting." Hikari surveyed her job without malice, then stopped and turned to Sakura. "Have a good first day."

She made to hug her, then didn't. After a moment she sat at her desk and Maya ushered Sakura out to a side office for registration. The headmistress managed to keep from tearing up too much during her family and educational history. Regaining composure, she led Sakura to her class.

They left the faculty wing for two large lecture halls on either side of a passage leading outside to a yard. Every girl in town was educated here, Maya explained, with classes split between teenagers and preadolescents. She paused before entering the door marked 1-B.

"We'll get a uniform for you by the end of the day, as well as the appropriate texts. I apologize, but please look on with another student until then."

"I should probably apologize," Sakura guessed. "We didn't give you much time to prepare."

"Nonsense," Maya soothed. "I'm delighted you're so dedicated to your education you wanted to begin school immediately after moving."

 _What stories has Hikari been telling people?_ she wondered.

Maya rapped on the classroom door and entered with her, addressing the students. There were a fair number of other teenagers in attendance, all watching Sakura with gleeful interest. She was an immediate novelty, a transfer from the capital.

"I'm Sakura Suzuhara," she introduced with a modest bow Hikari drilled into her. "Pleased to meet you."

The teacher, a bent, wiry woman, preempted the thousand questions from her pupils and ordered silence. "Ms. Suzuhara, take a seat and look on with a neighbor. Ms. Ibuki, thank you for your time…"

"Oh, yes," Maya said and turned to leave, offering a quick smile to Sakura. "Carry on."

The door shut and the teacher swatted her desk with a dark wooden switch. "Let's resume the day's lessons. Dealing gracefully with unwarranted distractions is part and parcel of a young lady's existence. And I will mold you all into fine, upstanding ladies. No one, in the big cities or the smallest hamlet, is excused from proper manners."

She proceeded to detail the correct way to accept a cup of tea for the rest of the morning.

Sakura stared. _Is this for real?_

Class broke for lunch. Away from the teacher's imperious gaze nearly every girl in the room spun on the new transfer. At least most of them were smiling. She tentatively returned it.

"Uh, hi," she tried.

"You're really from the capital?" one asked. "I never would have guessed from your clothes."

Sakura's smile became a shield.

"It's kind of weird to move to our district, especially from the capital," another began.

"The capital is where all the money and important people are going to be," her friend continued.

"Is it true your guardian was kicked out of the army?"

"What?" Sakura asked.

"Like, that's why you had to move here? You ran out of money?"

"I… No, we just thought it would be a good place to live." While it was true resource allocation favored the capital and the surrounding areas, it was hardly a luxurious paradise. Was it common for small town residents to conjure such fantasies?

"Good and boring," one girl stated. "There's nothing to do here."

"And this school is obsessed with social etiquette we'll never use. None of us are rich."

"Maybe if we lived in the capital."

"Which, again, is why it's so weird you moved here. You know, Suzuhara?"

"Hey, do you know anybody else in the army?"

"Not anymore," Sakura answered.

The teacher returned to end lunch. She was relieved.

The afternoon was consumed with putting the morning's lessons into practice. Each girl was given a tea cup filled with water and told to accept and drink. The teacher stalked the rows of long desks, switch in hand, to correct any unladylike actions. A girl with glasses took too much liquid, resulting in an audible gulp. The teacher swatted the back of her hand with the switch. The girl winced but did not make a sound, while managing not to spill anything.

Sakura nearly dropped her own cup watching on.

"Ms. Suzuhara," the teacher began, eyeing her, "I have no doubt your education to this point has been unique, but your background only enhances my resolve to teach you properly. Please make the effort to learn, as your classmates do."

She returned to overseeing her lessons and Sakura did her best not to laugh. What kind of school was this?

/\/\/\/\

Thursday was gym day, scheduled for final period. While the academy sat on a decent plot of land only a small, fenced area with two badminton courts was devoted to sports. The courts were in a clearing overlooking the woods behind the school, shielded from the city by a jutting wing of architecture. Sakura was thankful for a break from the inane lessons indoors but she held higher hopes for what constituted a gym class.

A thin girl twisted her ankle during a match and made sure everyone knew about it. The teacher rushed her to the infirmary, putting their class representative in charge. Order promptly broke down. Most of the girls sat by the fences to talk. Those that heeded the rep's timid instructions crowded the courts haphazardly for safely chaotic free-for-alls.

Despite the injury to the thin girl, badminton was far too tame for Sakura. It was, as she understood it, purposefully harmless, a game without serious aggression or risk designed to preserve their femininity.

 _What a waste of time,_ she thought, looking on alone from the sidelines.

The teacher was fond of scolding her for attacking the birdie with too much force, causing her opponents to cringe away as if she was serving bullets over the net. Her hopes of toughening up her classmates remained wanting.

She expected a difference in the makeup of girl here but not to such a degree. Their interests, their mannerisms, their posture, even their speech was radically removed from her own. Their melodramatic interpersonal intrigues were impenetrably silly, just as the classes were impenetrably boring. But she would choose impenetrable over unpleasant. This school existence felt surreal, like a brief dream of calm after the nightmare reality of the War.

"Hey!" one girl called out from the fence. "There's someone down there."

"Kyah!" another cried with emoted terror. "It's a _boy!_ "

She was immediately crowded, students pressing close for a view from safety. Although a mining town, young men were a rare curiosity. There was currently no boy's academy; the vast majority of males in District 20 were either preadolescent or too deep into adulthood to matter. The war effort claimed the young and poor.

"I haven't seen him in town before…"

"Maybe he's an escaped criminal?"

"He's way too young to be a criminal."

"Hey, he's cute."

The last thing they should do is encourage some deviant on school premises. Sakura rose to summon a teacher, who could summon a police officer.

"Eh? Why is he moving like that?"

"Is he hurt?"

"Blood! I see blood!"

Sakura looked past them beyond the fence.

The boy hobbled along below her on a narrow natural pathway between the forest and the edge of the hill. His steps were slow and uneven. His clothes were dirty and torn. There were indeed traces of blood on him. His movements were distracted and weary.

He finally noticed the commotion above him at the court. The discovery of over a dozen young women hooting at him appeared to startle more than excite as he worriedly looked between them.

For a moment their eyes met, and Sakura saw a depth of blue she imagined the ocean was like.

Her classmates watched in shock as she unlatched the fence door and descended the hill. The land jutted away from the court, and the boy could not see Sakura's approach until she was right beside him.

He turned to flee and tripped over a network of tree roots. He tripped and rolled, coming up quickly to limp away, absently clutching a bloody left forearm.

"Wait," she called out.

Despite himself, he did. He stood still, averting his eyes, awaiting reprimand.

She looked him over. "You're hurt," she said.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Sakura frowned. She grabbed hold of his shirt collar and led him back up the hill to the badminton court. The rest of her scandalized classmates backed away, watching and whispering.

"Suzuhara's quite bold."

"Are all city girls this aggressive?"

They entered the school. Sakura found the auxiliary nurse's station, a slim room with a single bed by a cabinet of supplies. She could feel the lingering stares of her classmates and shut the door behind her.

"Sit," she ordered, ushering the boy to the bed. He obeyed.

She appraised him. Most of the wounds looked superficial, small cuts and scrapes picked up from traversing a dense wood. Some, like the one on his arm, were fresh, oozing bright red. Many were scabbed over. His clothes were dirty and rumpled. There were two twigs in his hair. She idly plucked them out.

The mud and dirt and blood on his clothes did not obscure how finely tailored they were. They were not a normal family's tattered hand-me-downs or a state-sanctioned uniform. Sakura again frowned at the boy for being so careless with such fine raiment. He kept his eyes down.

"It's dangerous to wander around like that with injuries," she told him. He accepted the admonition silently.

She knew how to dress wounds. The orphanage was effective in some lessons. She found a roll of clean bandaging cloth in the cabinet. She tore a length off, wet it with her tongue, and began cleaning.

"I'm Sakura Suzuhara," she introduced herself.

"Hello."

She cleaned. The boy was tall and slim. He was tensed, like a stray wind would bowl him over.

"Can you tell me your name?"

"… Shinji."

She waited. "Can you tell me your last name, too?" She waited a longer time. "Okay. Mr. Shinji it is."

She finished cleaning all the skin she could see. Dirt and grime did not appear to be familiar with him. His skin was clean and soft. His complexion was clear. His hair looked silky to the touch. Sakura was pleased with her efforts, and set to bandage his injuries. He did not wince or complain.

"… This is the best I can do here," she told him as she worked. "I'm not a doctor. There should be someone in town that can attend to you more thoroughly if you need."

Shinji nodded vaguely. "No, this is fine. Sorry for being a bother. I'll be okay."

She very much doubted that. Sakura finished wrapping his arm and tied the bandage off at the wrist. Her fingers lingered a moment. The slender weight of his forearm trembled.

"What were you doing out there?" she finally asked.

He looked at his feet. He was silent.

The station door opened, and Hikari and Maya Ibuki entered.

"Sakura!"

"There _is_ a boy here," Maya murmured, staying put at the door's threshold. Behind her a swarm of students jostled for a peek. She recalled her professional demeanor and stepped into the room, closing the door behind her.

"What on earth are you doing?" Hikari demanded. "You can't bring some strange boy into a girl's academy."

"He was hurt," Sakura stated, pointing to the wads of dirty bandages on the floor. She stood and put a step's length between her and Shinji.

"Then you get the nurse or a teacher—"

"Everyone else was busy. There wasn't time to go looking for the proper authorities. What's the big deal?"

"This is supposed to be a safe, secure site for the girls of this town," Hikari told her, striving to keep her tone in check. "You can't simply invite unknown danger into it. Oh, and we just arrived here…"

Shinji shrank on the bed. Sakura glanced him over. Dangerous was not the word that sprang to mind after inspection.

"He was hurt," she repeated. "I didn't think it was very ladylike to ignore him. That's what this school is all about, right?"

Hikari let that slide. "Well, he cannot stay any longer."

"I didn't ask him to move in here." Sakura paused only a moment. "He could stay with us," she volunteered.

"Absolutely not!" Hikari said, narrowly beating Maya to decry the idea.

"The house has enough room if we convert a space on the second floor—"

"It's not… It's not _appropriate,_ " she explained. "I-I mean, we don't even know who he is."

All eyes fell on him again. He looked away.

"We can't just send him out into the streets like this," Sakura said.

"I'm sure the police station could see to him for a few nights," Maya began, having recovered a degree of sense but still battling a panic attack.

"No." Shinji bolted to his feet. He stepped towards the door but was unwilling to push past the women. "N-No, I don't want to bother anyone else. I'll be okay on my own."

Sakura blocked his path, holding her hands up. "Okay, okay. Calm down. You're still injured. We'll think of something, alright?"

Hikari watched on with worried confusion. She sighed. "I know someone in town. He might be able to help."

/\/\/\/\

His house looked like a pawn shop. Tall shelves filled with eclectic trinkets lined each wall, mementos from across the country spanning a wide array of interests. Worn books, small sculptures, music boxes, clocks, pipes, steins, dishes, and a scattered collection of musical instruments. Shigeru Aoba apologized for the clutter when they arrived; it all belonged to his parents, who left him the house. He didn't strike Sakura as the sentimental type. Maybe he was simply too lazy to clean it out.

For the past two days Shinji stayed with Aoba, and for the past two days after school Sakura visited to keep an eye on him. It dawned on her the situation was her responsibility. She made sure to thank Aoba and Hikari for offering a temporary solution. She made sure to tell Shinji to, as well.

 _"And don't go wandering off,"_ she warned him.

Aoba was employed in the settlement's mine, his shift lasting sunup to sundown. Once classes concluded at the academy Sakura and Hikari met him on his way home. They all arrived on the second day to music. Shinji sat at a weathered upright piano nestled between a pair of cramped shelves. Several tattered books of sheet music sat on the stand, unopened.

"At least he wasn't bored all day," Aoba said, closing the front door behind them.

"Thank you again," Hikari told him. "I know this is a lot to ask."

He shrugged. "It's not terrible to have someone waiting for you at home. And he's quiet, doesn't make a mess, hardly eats a thing… You definitely could have found worse houseguests for me."

"I'm glad he isn't causing too much trouble. But this can't last forever."

Shinji continued on the piano.

"The kid's good," Aoba remarked, almost proudly. "His skill speaks of professional training, along with natural talent. I'm a touch jealous. Where on earth did you find him again?"

"He was lost outside the academy," Hikari said. "We were hoping he'd tell you more."

"He'll talk about music. I haven't pressed him on anything else." He watched Shinji play. "He'll come around."

The adults wandered into the kitchen for coffee and Sakura found herself behind Shinji. She peeked over his shoulder to watch him play. His fingers glided across the keys with effortless proficiency to produce a fluttering of notes. She imagined a bird flitting between trees in the sunshine.

She was musically innocent, never possessing serious means of access. She had no say in the matter, and along with the private shame of her clumsy excuse for manual dexterity, told herself she wasn't missing anything important. It was nothing but arranged noise.

But when Shinji played it was not obnoxious, or dull, or perplexingly abstract. He made it accessible without cheapening it. His was a natural, easy skill that communicated enjoyment. Watching Shinji's hands delicately swim over the keys was like magic.

"You're good," she echoed Aoba, although in truth she had little to compare him to.

"Thanks." He tried to sound grateful.

"It's hard to play without sheet music, right?"

He shrugged, trying to make the generous inference disappear. She waited. He relented.

"It's a song I learned a long time ago," he told her. "It's just memorization."

"It's more than I can do."

Shinji's discomfort increased. Reacts poorly to praise, she noted, again. She let him continue in peace and looked around the cluttered room. A couch against the wall was made into a guest bed for Shinji, the books that usually sat all over it crammed beneath. A small coffee table was absorbed with a variety of tools. Resting on the top of the piano was a framed photo of Aoba and another man with short dark hair and glasses, both in military uniform. Sakura recalled Hikari mentioned he was a soldier.

"Do you like it here with Mr. Aoba?" she asked Shinji.

"It's not a bad place."

"That's not a ringing endorsement."

"I've never been somewhere like this. I don't know if I like it."

She frowned. "Well, do you like Mr. Aoba?"

Shinji brightened a degree. "He's letting me stay here, so… I mean, he's quiet, but not unfriendly. He knows a lot about music. He told me things I never heard before."

"Okay."

"Mr. Aoba said music was good. That playing it for people was like a gift." He stopped playing and stared at the weathered keys. "There's nothing else I can do."

Sakura sat beside him on the piano bench. He nearly jumped into the air.

"It's a start," she told him. "If you don't think there's anything else you can do right now, then do what you can. Start from there and keep trying."

She sought out his night ocean eyes. She smiled at him. After a moment, he smiled back.

/\/\/\/\

Hikari, Sakura realized on Sunday, was not a morning person naturally. She needed a tall mug of black coffee to adopt her alert persona before noon. So when they woke up and discovered the house was out Hikari grumbled the command they were getting some from the market.

They made their way from the residential blocks into the city, arriving at the main markets just as services were ending. The street became noisy and densely packed, segregated into long lines for each store. Sakura peeked around a burly old man in front of them.

"This'll take a while."

Hikari lost all pretense of fending off misery. "I just want some coffee."

The line inched forward.

"We're not far from Mr. Aoba's place," Sakura led. "You could get coffee there."

"That would only solve today's shortage. We'll get there soon enough. It isn't going anywhere."

A mother ahead of them dropped her coin purse and tried to collect the fallen money while corralling her two sons. Hikari looked like she wanted to scream.

"Why don't I go on ahead?" Sakura posed.

"Mr. Shinji will survive without your supervision."

She couldn't tell if that was the lack of coffee talking or her usual disregard for Shinji. Her guardian remained wary of him since they met. Even after spending time with him and hearing Mr. Aoba's gentle praises she was unable or unwilling to shrug off her initial impression. He seemed destined to forever be the dirty runaway boy invading their school and life.

"We're already late."

"Sakura, it'll be fine—"

The mother ahead of them gave up on her place in line after her boys escaped her grasp to run towards a toy shop. Everyone remaining repositioned as she left. Sakura let herself be pushed from the crowd.

"I'll meet you at Mr. Aoba's," she called to Hikari over the heads of a dozen other shoppers.

Stuck between losing her own spot in line and looking after her ward, pre-coffee Hikari stayed put. "Be careful!" she told Sakura, and she was off.

The street to Aoba's house was narrow, lined with fenced walkways and sheer building faces. It was a short, straight walk from the market. Despite the city's twisted architecture Sakura found navigation less treacherous than first imagined. There were many high points to gain sight vantage across the valley, and streets were clearly labeled. Other pedestrians were quick to offer a polite direction if you asked or not.

Aoba's house was a squat two stories with an unattached shed on a dusty plot between a tall two-family home and a watch repairman's shop. Only the shed hinted at his ownership of the home. It was rustic, well-used, its paint faded and chipped. Dirty windows displayed tools, and several ladders of varying lengths hung by hooks on an outside wall. The house itself was quaint and cute, with embroidered drapes and window boxes for potted plants.

Aoba sat on the front step, looking more out of place next to it than usual. He was slouched against the door, staring out at nothing, a bent cigarette hanging off his bottom lip as a thin stripe of smoke curled away overhead.

"Good morning, Mr. Aoba," she tried with a cautious wave.

With a delayed reaction he met her eyes. "Sakura. Morning."

Aoba wasn't a person she would describe as boisterously friendly. But she expected more than that.

"Is everything okay?"

With a lurch he sat forward, sucking the rest of his cigarette to the end, and ground it into the dirt at his feet. He came back to himself. "Take a seat."

She settled beside him on the cold step. His appearance wasn't indicative of depression or sadness, but he was obviously troubled. Sakura waited for him to speak and realized she did not hear music from inside his house.

He told her early that morning, before the rest of the town was awake, before the church services began or the sun was visible over the mountain ring, a man with a police escort arrived at his doorstep to claim Shinji.

"He's…"

"You missed saying goodbye to him by a good three hours."

Sakura bolted to her feet without knowing why and stared down at him. "You just let him leave with a stranger?"

"Shinji didn't object. He went willingly. I didn't kick him out." Aoba fished another cigarette out of his shirt pocket along with a match.

"Still…!"

"I'm not in a position to fight the police, or Shinji's wishes."

The world spun. Sakura balled helpless fists. "Where did they take him?"

"They wouldn't say." He lit the cigarette but hesitated against his lips. Aoba watched her frantic despair. "If he really was a runaway it was only a matter of time before something like this happened. Look, I'm sorry. But this was always a temporary solution."

"I know that," she bit out. She couldn't stand still. "I know that."

"He seemed like an okay kid. He told me to tell you, 'thank you.'"

Sakura slumped. She felt exhausted and collapsed back on the front step. "Was the person Mr. Shinji left with nice?"

Aoba blew smoke out in a slow ribbon. He gazed down the street. "The guy that collected Shinji was a Collaborator."

"What?"

"Defectors from the Host army during the War. They were given special consideration after the Armistice to do, well, pretty much whatever they want." He sucked on his cigarette. A hint of his lost stare returned. "I never thought I'd see one way out here."

"So… What?"

"I guess I didn't explain it well. Collaborators were invaluable resources. The only reason they're here is because they gave intel or technology to the army in exchange for their freedom. They sold their own kind out. Nothing good will come of associating with them. Or with anyone near them."

His tone communicated he was done talking. Sakura watched his cigarette burn away, tickling the edges of his fingertips. She didn't want to believe him. But at least regarding the War he knew more than she did. Still, Shinji ran away from that Collaborator, and had to have a reason for it. Why did he return without a fight? Didn't he know they were dangerous?

The idea struck her. Was Shinji in danger now? Was that why he ran away? Sakura's fists rested heavily on her knees. She could save him from a few bumps and bruises but was powerless to do anything else. All she did was passively watch from the periphery. When her parents died. When her brother died. When the majority of the country died. All she could do was keep her head down and survive, waiting until someone rescued her.

Sakura squeezed her fists. They felt tiny and weak. She burned with a sense of futility and looked to the sky. Past the rough shingled edges of houses and the spindly church bell tower. Past the ridges of the surrounding mountain peaks. She looked up into a vast, alien blue, unknowable and untouchable.

 _Mr. Shinji,_ she thought. _Where are you?_

/\/\/\/\

End of chapter 1

Author notes: Despite the title, this story won't be long at all. I planned out six chapters.

Next chapter: You are cordially invited to an afternoon of tea and leisure at the Soryu Estate.


	2. Summons

The Long Dark

Chapter 2: Summons

Disclaimer: I do not own Evangelion.

/\/\/\/\

"Are you nervous?"

Sakura glanced over at Hikari. "No."

The carriage was large and plush, an expensive and unfamiliar indulgence. The cushioned seats were softer and larger than their beds. Lace curtains shielded the windows with ornate sophistication. Beyond, along the dusty streets of District 20, people stopped and stared with wondering admiration.

They glided out of town into the dense wood to the west. The path snaked through old trees that blotted out the sky. Civilization was behind them; the unknown waited.

"I'm not nervous," Hikari announced. She fidgeted with her dress, smoothing the hem. The carriage hit a bump in the road, jostling her. She smoothed the hem again.

She wore her finest dress, a subdued expression of formality she said she received from her older sister, who Sakura never met. Sakura wore her school uniform. She didn't feel underdressed, but the uniform lent an air of oppression to the trip. She glanced down at the note in her lap, rereading it, trying to glean a hidden clue she missed before.

It arrived six days after Shinji left. The paper was thick, heavy and expensive, the envelope's red wax seal imprinted with a strange family crest of a four-eyed bird of prey. The message inside was succinct: _Regarding Shinji;_ _a carriage will arrive for you tomorrow morning at eight. Come to the Soryu Estate._

There was no time to ask Mr. Aoba or Headmistress Ibuki about any Soryu. Sakura heard rumors in school of summer estates dotting the surrounding countryside, since fallen into ruin as the War claimed lives and fortunes. She got the impression they were all abandoned. The median level of wealth in the District did not suggest otherwise.

There were no signs of civilization or human life for miles. The thick forest crowded the carriage on both sides.

"How far are we going?" Hikari wondered aloud.

"We haven't been travelling that long."

"Maybe we shouldn't have come, after all."

Sakura's mind was made up as soon as she read the letter. Convincing her guardian was nearly an all-night affair but she conceded defeat to her ward's determination and her own curiosity.

"Too late to back out now."

"I suppose so," Hikari spoke. "And maybe we'll get some answers now. Hopefully whoever this Soryu is will be more forthcoming than Mr. Shinji."

"I'm sure he had his reasons," Sakura said.

"Maybe, but he put us in a difficult situation because of it. Someone hailing from an estate should know better."

Sakura decided to fight this particular battle another day. She didn't want to waste energy at odds with her guardian. Despite her proclamation earlier she was nervous to see him again. Although they had not spent much time together, from his clothes, demeanor and musical ability she deduced he belonged to a world far above her own. Now she was travelling towards proof of it. She fought against being too disheartened all week. Maybe it would have been better if she never heard from him again.

She shook her head. That was nonsense. He was alive and well. Getting depressed over the margins wasn't constructive. She wanted to greet him with a smile, not an inferiority complex.

The wooded path suddenly opened to a high wall. Twin wrought iron gates swung open revealing an expanse of grass and trees and gardens, all meticulously plotted and tended. A cobblestone road curved around the lip of a shallow rise to a structure longer than a residential block. It was dark and low, rising from the earth like teeth.

Sakura stared.

"Shinji ran away from _this?_ " Hikari whispered in awe.

/\/\/\/\

The carriage pulled up to a stone paved receiving circle on the rise. The chauffer offered a hand to Hikari to help her out and she awkwardly accepted. Sakura slid out the opposite door herself.

They stood in the shadow of the mansion. It filled their sight. They climbed the front steps to a high sloped alcove between a set of pillars. The front doors were tall, darkly polished to a reflective sheen. In the center was a heavy iron knocker.

"Be on your best behavior," Hikari blurted as Sakura reached for it.

"Okay?"

"Whoever lives here must be very wealthy. Look at the size of this place, and the property, too. It must be a true aristocrat."

Sakura glanced back at where they came. It was at least a mile to the gated wall surrounding the estate. The land extended even farther behind the main building. She shook her head. Who needed this much space?

The front doors opened without warning, startling them both.

"Welcome to the Soryu Estate."

The man greeting them was tall and slender. Aside from his height it was impossible to discern an age. His features were smooth and agile, like he was molded rather than birthed. His smile never wavered, without touching the rest of his face.

His suit was fine and expensive, and entirely black, as if in mourning. The contrast to his pale skin and silvery hair was alarming. Blood red eyes met their unease without offense. The eyes of a Collaborator.

"I am Kaworu Nagisa," the man spoke. He bowed, sweeping an arm to usher them over the threshold. "I am Lady Soryu's attendant. Please, come in; she is expecting you."

Sakura collected herself and stepped past him. Hikari recalled staring was impolite and hurried after. Kaworu drew the front doors shut and the world beyond became far away.

Everything inside the estate was ornate and immaculately clean. The faded, chipped paint and dust and wear of the Suzuhara house became a private shame. Paintings and sculptures and artifacts lined every wall, all pristine and expensive. A wide collection of firearms were displayed behind glass, along with bladed weapons from less civilized eras.

"This way, please."

Kaworu led them through the foyer, to a side hall that curved under a wide staircase. Heavy wood doors allowed entrance to a parlor. Hikari lost in her struggle not to gape. Their entire two-story house and yard could easily fit inside this single room. The left and back walls were lined with tiered bookcases. The right wall was dominated by soaring windows displaying the distant mountain ring. Buttresses swept together far overhead into a massive sparkling chandelier. A collection of instruments sat carefully arranged by the windows, including a grand piano and enough strings for a proper quartet. Every surface gleamed in the morning light.

In the middle of the chamber were two couches separated by a long, low table. On the couch facing them sat a woman.

She sat tall and straight, her hands folded in her lap. Her dress was luxurious red intricacy, finer than anything Sakura ever saw. It dipped between her shoulders, displaying a long, elegant neck and flawless skin.

She was impossibly, unfairly beautiful. Lithe and symmetrical, curved without wantonness. A physical allure that was both natural and effortless, coupled with exotic red hair draped behind her shoulders and eyes the color of a cloudless summer sky.

"Lady Asuka Soryu," Kaworu presented, "Ms. Suzuhara has arrived."

"Hello," Hikari burst out, before giving a curtsey. She tugged Sakura into one as well. "Th-Thank you for inviting us to your home, Lady Soryu."

Asuka looked at her. "And you are?"

"I'm, I'm Hikari Suzuhara. Sakura's sister-in-law and guardian. Um, I work at the academy in town and…" She slumped. "I wasn't invited, was I?"

"My letter was too concise it seems."

"I am so sorry," Hikari said, and took a breath to apologize further.

"You are here now," Asuka politely interrupted. "If Ms. Suzuhara has no objections you are free to stay."

Sakura glanced at her guardian who silently pleaded for permission. She shrugged. "Fine by me."

Kaworu led them to the couch opposite Asuka before leaving the parlor. They sat a moment, sinking in plush luxury, again realizing how cavernous the room was. The estate was the largest structure Sakura had ever been inside. She felt a little silly using this entire chamber for a gathering of three people.

"So," she began, "where is Mr. Shinji?"

"I see he made quite an impression," Asuka mused. "How unusual."

"I just want to make sure he's okay."

"He's resting right now. He'll be along later." Lady Soryu appraised Sakura. "I wanted to meet the girl who found him for me. Please, tell me about yourself."

"There isn't much to tell," Sakura told her.

"From Shinji's account, you aided him without hesitation. You treated his injuries and secured lodging. I'm interested in the kind of person who would do that for a stranger."

She hid a frown. Was she questioning her motivations? "Well, I mean, he was hurt. I couldn't leave him." She rushed ahead. "I'm more interested in why Mr. Shinji left this place. And why he wouldn't talk about it. And what's your relation to him?"

She was older than he was, but Lady Soryu looked too young and too perfect to have a child Shinji's age. There was no resemblance between the two, either. The arrangement suddenly appeared odd, added atop Shinji's hesitant behavior.

"This isn't an interrogation," Hikari chastised her ward.

"Questions are only natural. Being direct is the most efficient course." Asuka was not caught off guard or even offended. She effortlessly adapted and spoke with the same smooth, level tone. "Shinji is the child of an acquaintance who passed during the War."

"And you're raising him?" Hikari wondered. "That's so generous of you."

"Someone needs to look after him. You must think poorly of me for losing sight of him."

"Of course not—"

"He was pretty banged up from wandering the woods…" Sakura intoned.

"I'm not surprised," Asuka said. "He's never left the estate before. He's been in poor health since childhood. Shinji was curious about the outside world. But he realized he cannot survive in it. Here I can control the environment he's exposed to. For his own good, he must stay."

"So that's why," Hikari said. She wore her most sympathetic face. "How terrible. For him to cause you so much trouble. He should have known better. Why, with his health he was lucky you found him when you did. If only I would have known I'd have taken him to the police immediately…"

Hikari rambled on. Asuka never looked away from Sakura.

Kaworu entered the parlor wheeling a cart for tea service including a large gleaming silver urn, elaborately decorated cups and a tiered plate of pastries. The ensemble spoke of delicate expense. Hikari hid her disappointment at the omission of coffee.

He set up places for each woman on the low table between the couches and poured tea, all with an effortless, natural grace and economy of movement. His smile was fixed, even under Hikari's nervy glances.

"Don't be scared of him," Asuka said. "Nagisa is harmless."

"O-Oh. If you say so. I mean, of course not."

He left the parlor with an unfaltering smile. Mr. Aoba's warnings echoed in Sakura's ears. "How'd a Collaborator wind up with you?"

Hikari nearly choked on her tea. "Sakura…!" she whispered.

Asuka remained immune to offense. "Do you believe the horror stories about them?"

"Well, it seems a little unusual."

"The world after the War is unusual. Nagisa owed a favor to my family for negotiating his freedom. He serves as my attendant to settle that debt."

"Is he the only help you have here?" Hikari asked, unable to restrain herself.

"Yes. Only myself and Shinji live here. We are fairly self-sufficient."

Asuka took a measured sip of tea. Even that simple action was beautiful. Sakura tried to recall her own extensive teacup protocol, only to find she didn't care outside of a school setting. Even under a soaring roof of wealth and sophistication the lessons drilled into her seemed silly and pointless.

She sampled the tea. It was hot and bitter. She nibbled a biscuit. She decided she would be happy eating nothing but these biscuits for the rest of her life.

"Um, if you don't mind my asking," Hikari began, "how did Mr. Nagisa find Mr. Shinji?" She sounded ashamed at questioning her host. "Did word about the commotion he caused at the academy reach you all the way out here?"

"Nagisa has a devoted interest in humanity. To satisfy that interest he keeps ties with various people in various places. Those contacts led him to District 20. And of course, we were searching for Shinji."

"Oh, of course."

"I hope he didn't make too much of a mess for you."

"It was a bit of a shock to find him but things calmed down quickly. Everyone at the academy is dedicated to furthering their education."

 _Tell that to my classmates,_ Sakura thought. Ever since the incident she was the victim of a sustained whisper campaign of public invisibility. While the faculty had little tolerance for bullying and conflict, students shunning one of their own was harder to police. As far as she was concerned, it was the logical end to her initial interaction with her peers.

She found Asuka eyeing her.

"What are you studying at the academy?" she asked.

"Nothing important," Sakura answered.

"Please excuse her," Hikari stepped in. "The lessons have been an adjustment."

"I recall thinking etiquette classes were inane," Asuka said, almost wistfully.

"Really?"

"Wh-What?"

"It wasn't until later I realized their worth."

Lady Soryu looked at Sakura in a manner she couldn't place. She was a difficult person to read.

"Y-Yes," Hikari agreed. "It might not seem useful now, but one day, it surely will be."

"That's what they keep telling me," Sakura murmured.

Kaworu reappeared with the cart to clean up after tea. On his way out Asuka spoke to him: "Nagisa, fetch Shinji. He's been admirably patient."

He left through a side door. A moment later, Shinji appeared at it. He wore a fine, dark suit making him appear taller and mature beyond his age. It was a noticeable change from the ragged oversized work clothes Mr. Aoba let him borrow.

Sakura offered a wave across the parlor. He avoided eye contact. He looked nervous. She peered at him. Was he ashamed he was rich? It wasn't his fault.

He approached and she saw how finely tailored the suit was, cut specifically for his lean height. Taken against the backdrop of the expensive, massive parlor and estate Sakura realized how out of place she was beside him. She looked down at the frayed hems of her school uniform. She felt gross and boorish. An unfeminine orphan who happened to stumble onto real class.

Sakura glanced back up as he drew near Asuka. Shinji living with such magnificence explained his lackluster response to entering an all girl's school. None of her classmates could claim a fraction of Lady Soryu's brilliance.

But seeing him now his actions did not speak of embarrassed longing or impure machinations. He was calmly subdued without affectation. He was a deferent, tamed animal.

Shinji stopped before the couches, glanced at Asuka for permission, then bowed.

"I know I caused you a lot of trouble," he began. "It was selfish of me. I am sorry."

 _I should have expected that kind of greeting,_ she thought. "We're just glad you're okay," Sakura reiterated, preempting any passive aggression from her guardian.

"Indeed," Hikari conceded.

"Do you want to sit?"

The only free space was beside Asuka. "I'll stand," he decided.

"Shinji," Lady Soryu spoke, "due to Ms. Suzuhara's modesty, it falls on you to answer my interest. Tell me about her."

It took a moment for the gears to start turning. "What would you like to know?" he stalled with all eyes on him.

"What do you think of her?"

"I, um…" His gaze fell on the floor. "I appreciate her generosity in helping me. Um…" He trailed off.

"He doesn't have to—" Sakura began.

"Let him finish."

Shinji resigned himself to not escaping. "I think she is brave. She makes me want to do better."

"I see," Asuka said without looking at him. "Shinji, play something for us."

He retreated to the instruments by the windows. After wavering a moment he sat at the piano. Without sheet music he began an intricate song, played softly as an accompaniment to conversation. Asuka listened along a moment with her eyes shut.

"He's quite good," Hikari told her.

"He has a ways to go."

"Oh. Um, I suppose you would know better than I. Sorry."

"So he's still getting lessons?" Sakura inferred. She had trouble imagining him sounding any better than he already was.

"Nagisa teaches him," she explained dismissively.

"Oh. So he's Mr. Shinji's instructor." Hikari nodded. "That's certainly convenient. I was wondering about his schooling."

"He's taught what he needs to know." Asuka shifted her attention. "You want to watch him?" she asked.

Sakura found herself leaning towards him in her seat. "Do you mind?" she asked before Hikari could shoot down the idea as grossly impolite.

"By all means."

She didn't need to be told twice. Sakura left the couch and Lady Soryu's line of sight. Her footsteps echoed over the music in the parlor. She wondered if rich people got tired from walking through their giant rooms.

Shinji did not react to her presence. He continued at the piano and Sakura waited for what she thought was a lull in the song before speaking.

"Hi."

He looked up to her. He did not stop playing. "Hello."

Not the reunion she envisioned. Maybe he was merely being cautious before his guardian. She was realizing from the academy and the day's events there was a separate world of decorum that was more stifling the further up the social ladder you existed. But that shouldn't preclude normal human interactions.

"You're welcome," she said.

"What?"

"Mr. Aoba told me you said thank you to me. You're welcome."

"… I am in your debt," Shinji said to her. "My resources in repaying that debt are limited, but if there is something I can do for you I will. Please do not hesitate to ask."

Sakura almost laughed at his formality before seeing he was indeed serious. "I didn't do anything because I wanted a reward."

"I-I didn't mean to infer that—"

She grinned at his flustering and he colored. There was the Mr. Shinji she knew. Sakura sat beside him on the piano bench. He panicked to make space for her without interrupting the song in an unintentional display of dexterity she wasn't expecting.

"I was only teasing," she said.

"Well, still, I need to repay you somehow."

"I'll keep that in my pocket. A favor from you, repaid at a later date. It's a promise now, so no backing out."

"If that's what you wish."

Sakura glanced back at the couches. Hikari still talked with animation. She could only make out a few syllables here and there. All she saw of Lady Soryu was a curtain of red hair.

"This is certainly a change from Mr. Aoba's house," she remarked, glancing around the parlor again. "Did you feel like you were suffocating in his place?"

"Not at all." He continued on a moment. "It was interesting to see how other people live. I will always remember my time there."

She watched him play. It was different than how he performed in Aoba's house. Here there was no hint of satisfaction as he mechanically moved from key to key. She recalled what he told her about music being a gift. She wondered who he was giving this to.

"Lady Soryu told us you left the estate because you wanted to see the outside world," Sakura began, "and that you returned because you knew you had to." She studied him. "Why did you leave this place?"

"If that's what Lady Soryu said," he told her, "then that's the reason."

He played.

She held her tongue. It might be fruitless to pursue this with his guardian a stone's throw away. Even if he did confess some horrible truth, what could she do about it? The feeling of powerlessness crept back over her.

Sakura already deduced Shinji wasn't the most confident person, so adding to his anxiety wouldn't help either of them. She remembered when doubt and worry invaded her letters to Toji, he'd tell her feeling bad was normal in a bad situation but to remember not everything was bad, and that one day it would get better if they stayed alive. It was a simplistic, straightforward approach she expected from her brother but knowing he hadn't given up hope gave some to her.

She worried the sentiment would be too crude for someone of Shinji's station and tried to decorate it for him.

"I like your song," Sakura told him. "Maybe one day you can play in front of more people, and give them the same gift."

She tried smiling at him again. He kept his eyes fixed on the piano. He did not smile back.

/\/\/\/\

The sun was nearly gone from the tall windows in the parlor when Hikari told Sakura they were leaving. Tomorrow was a school day and she wanted to return home before dark. Despite that, she sounded truly reluctant to depart.

Kaworu entered to see them out. Shinji returned to Lady Soryu's side. He bowed in farewell, almost lost in Asuka's shadow. Asuka wished them a safe trip.

"Wow," Hikari said as the carriage passed through the iron gates of the estate. She sank into the seat. "What an amazing day."

Sakura resisted the urge to remind her guardian of her initial reluctance to the trip.

"It was illuminating," she said instead.

"Oh, yes. Seeing how a real lady lives will be a wonderful point of reference for your studies. What a magnificent home."

Her estate was grand and expensive, but Sakura was never impressed by such ostentatious displays. Lady Soryu was wealthy and probably powerful, but she existed in a different, alien world, far removed from her own. Where Hikari covetously fawned over it, Sakura could only shake her head. The gap between them was insurmountable to the point of unknowable. She was too bewildered to be jealous of it.

"And Lady Soryu is so incredible," Hikari went on. "How she behaved, her speech… everything she did spoke of true refinement. And she's so generous. She was under no obligation to invite us out to her home but she did. I hope we made a good impression. Certainly, she must have all sorts of connections and contacts. She must be very important. But she didn't need an army of servants to wait on her. How independent. And she's raising a child by herself."

Sakura glanced at her. "So are you."

"Well, yes, but Mr. Shinji is just an acquaintance's child. We're family. And he's confined to the house. It must be difficult for her."

"She has Nagisa to help out. And money doesn't seem to be a problem."

Hikari frowned. "Do you not like Lady Soryu?" She whispered the unthinkable question.

"It's too early to answer that," she evaded.

"She was nothing but polite and gracious with us. She answered all our questions. What else were you looking for?"

A welcoming demeanor could easily hide ill intent. Sakura's orphanage existence taught her not to put much weight behind appearances.

But she let her guard down today. She was stunned by Lady Soryu's beauty and grace, and the adult confidence she possessed was utterly foreign to Sakura. As such, she was unable to give voice to what bothered her since they met in that empty mansion.

Shinji may appear safe as she hoped but it was the security of a prisoner. Fine suits and fancy surroundings did not conceal that. The feeling stayed with her back into town, even if she had no concrete evidence or plausible reason behind why Lady Soryu would conspire for such a thing.

But even the invitation to her home, while ostensibly generous as Hikari said, could be a means of intimidation by letting them see how wealthy she was. Her attendant seemed to have a spy network cast over the county. And Shinji simply did not act right around her.

Sakura, armed with nothing but vague unease, was powerless to change the control Lady Soryu held over their situation. Her composure and social skill gave her clear authority, a detached superiority over anyone she met. But beyond that, she did not act like a grateful parent being reunited with a beloved child. It was more than the emotional guards of the upper class on display.

Sakura realized Lady Soryu had not smiled once.

/\/\/\/\

End of chapter 2

Author notes: This is turning out to be a much slower burn than I intended. I can't say the payoff will be worth it, but some degree of buildup is required.

Next chapter: plot devices upon plot devices.


	3. Overcast

The Long Dark

Chapter 3: Overcast

Disclaimer: I do not own Evangelion.

/\/\/\/\

She woke to a window blurred grey by raindrops. The night's storm crawled away over the ridge of mountains around the valley, claps of thunder still audible in the lengthening distance. Sakura got out of bed.

She rolled up her mattress and sheets, and tucked them into a corner of her room. She opened her closet, occupied by school uniforms, the orphanage attire she arrived in and one dress for Sundays, selected and bought by Hikari. Her traditional, safe tastes shone through in the heavy brown piece. But on a wet, cold day it was welcome.

She changed into it, chafing at the rough fabric. It was too big and severely unflattering but Sakura was in no position to complain. With no money herself, she was forced to rely on what others gave her. Even when it was something nice the silent sense of helpless shame remained intact.

The desk Hikari bought for her sat below the window. It was weathered, nicked and stained, bought at discount from the academy's storeroom. It was better than completing her homework on the floor, or at the kitchen table under Hikari's watchful eye. She knew her guardian didn't correct her work to show off or prove how smart she was but Sakura's schooling to this point was far inferior to Hikari's. She could read and write, her brother made sure of that, but translating thought to word wasn't always easy. Adding the application of the academy's teachings only muddied the waters further. There were so many rules to remember in social situations, depending on rank and environment and status.

Sakura grabbed her room key from the desk and slid it into a front pocket. She was in the habit of carrying it with her, despite leaving the room unlocked. There was nothing in it she deemed worth stealing or hiding. But the sense of privacy remained a novelty.

She made her way downstairs with a yawn. She never slept in because the orphanage never allowed it. Even if you were sick there was work to be done. Now there was school to be done. Habits were hard to break.

Hikari was in the kitchen readying their usual Sunday breakfast omelets. The academy paid her enough to keep the house's pantry well-stocked, even considering the district's limited resources. She knew a lot of recipes, making the most of what they had access to, and improvising where needed.

"Want to help?" she asked Sakura brightly as she descended the stairs.

"Okay."

As the stove heated Hikari coated the pan with butter and gave Sakura eggs to crack. She accepted with an internal grimace. She knew resources were limited and was paranoid about making mistakes with food. Hikari always shrugged it away, telling her she just needed practice. But practice at the expense of her guardian's paycheck was too anxious. She felt the debt to her sister-in-law grow ever larger.

"How's it coming?" Hikari asked, cutting vegetables for the omelet.

"Uh… Hold on."

She tapped an egg on the rim of a bowl, producing a spider web fracture. It collapsed all at once and the yoke slid into the bowl along with most of the shell.

"Damn."

Hikari's first instinct was to reprimand for swearing. She held her tongue looking at her ward.

"It's okay," she said, handing Sakura a towel for her hands as she tried to scoop out the shell. "Um, I'll take care of it. Why don't you finish the vegetables?"

Sakura methodically sliced celery and potatoes. Beside her Hikari deftly cracked the other eggs without incident and whisked them together.

"Sorry," she said.

Hikari set the cooking omelet to the side of the stove, waiting for Sakura to finish cutting. "Don't worry. Practice makes perfect."

She cut. "Sorry this takes me so long."

"Cooking is like any other skill. Proficiency takes time." She watched her. "You'll enjoy it more as you improve, I promise."

Sakura managed to finish without drawing blood. Maybe she was getting better. Hikari sprinkled the vegetables over the omelet, folded it, flipped it, and served it. They ate. Her sister-in-law often spoke of the satisfaction in creating a meal but Sakura had yet to experience it. Food preparation was not what she considered fun. She helped in the kitchen to alleviate some of the guilt in relying on Hikari so much. But her efforts inevitably made more work for her.

"Maybe later we could try making something else," Hikari offered.

Sakura picked around the last of her meal. "Yeah."

"Um… Is there anything particular you'd like to make?"

"I'll let you decide."

"Oh. Okay."

They finished eating and cleared the table. Hikari stoked the stove's fire for coffee and dishes.

"Sakura, could you get some water from the park?"

She forced the fatigue from her limbs. "Sure."

She found a large pot, better to have too much than not enough, and headed out the door to the public well. Pure reflex kept her from slipping on the puddle at the foot of the threshold on the porch. Regaining her balance, she looked for the source. It rained last night, but the rest of the porch was dry. Something dripped on her shoulder and she glanced up. A thin crack snaked along the roof of the porch, rain water collecting at its edge in a beady pool.

Hikari almost ran into her a moment later as she hesitated by the open front door. Sakura pointed up.

"What should we do?" she asked. They were still relatively new in town and had yet to establish a network of contacts. While they could find a handyman with some effort, Sakura opted for the familiar. "Maybe Mr. Aoba could help?"

She sighed. "I hate to bother him on his only day off from the mine." Water pooled at their feet. "I'll make it up to him."

Sakura fetched him at his house. He was already awake, she thought; he always looked a little sleepy. But he agreed to survey the damage without incident. He grabbed a ladder from the shed and followed Sakura back to her home.

He scanned the porch, then climbed to the roof.

"How much do you think this will cost?" Hikari asked from the yard.

"Don't worry about that," Aoba said. "It's not bad. I'll take care of it."

"I have to at least pay for your time and labor."

He thought a moment. "I remember you mentioning you're a cook. If you make something for me, we'll call it even. Deal?"

"Deal."

He told her he needed to return to his home for tools and supplies. Hikari asked Sakura to tag along and help him carry it back, before she headed back into the kitchen to start cooking.

Aoba collected a toolbox and lumber and they returned. He ascended the ladder. After a moment, Sakura followed him up. He gave her a raised eyebrow but stayed silent. She sat beside him and watched as he pulled up the shingles and cut away the water damaged wood beneath. Soon there was a clear hole to the porch below.

He sawed the lumber into small braces and nailed them against the sides of the hole, then built upon them to create a framework. Another piece went over it to cover the hole. He nailed new shingles into place over that.

"Thanks," Sakura said as he worked, handing him tools and nails when he asked. "We didn't know who else to go to."

"Glad to help you two out. I'm no professional, but this should hold for now. I can point you to some actual carpenters in town if you need them."

"This isn't the first time you've bailed us out." She studied him a moment. "Do you mind if I ask why?"

Aoba smiled wryly. "Am I that suspicious?"

"I'm just not used to it."

She spoke plainly, without demanding sympathy. He looked at her, then away.

"Help isn't easily found these days," he said. "Some would say it's a sign of weakness. But the world is hard enough; why make it harder? That's the sentiment I'm trying to borrow from your sister."

"You knew Hikari from the service, right?"

He nodded. "I met her when I was being decommissioned. It was a hectic time after the War, but she was good at her job. She pushed me up the line to get out of the army."

"How scandalous."

"It wasn't illegal, per se. Uh, maybe I should stop talking."

Sakura smiled. "Why'd she go out of her way to help you?"

"I didn't bribe her or anything. I always tried to be nice to the clerks and secretaries. They might not see frontline combat but they have to deal with the aftermath, same as soldiers. It's a hard job to deal with death like that, all day every day."

Aoba pursed his lips in thought, choosing his words.

"I guess she took pity on me," he finally said. "I was a bit out of sorts at the end there. I needed to get away. Mrs. Suzuhara must have seen it. I owe her."

The concept of obligation to Hikari was nothing new to Sakura. She felt a little closer to Aoba.

"And yet you're charging food for these repairs."

"Hey. I might be indebted but I'm not stupid. No way I'm passing up a home cooked meal."

"Then you're lucky I'm up here," she said. "My cooking would make you charge double."

"You're an unusual girl."

Sakura gave him a toothy grin.

Hikari walked out on the lawn, wiping her hands on her apron. "Mr. Aoba, do you need any water or anything?" She stopped. "Sakura! Come down from there! That's dangerous!"

Apparently not caring about Mr. Aoba's safety was okay. She shared a sympathetic look with him and he nodded over his shoulder for her to obey her guardian. Sakura slid down the ladder.

"I was wondering where you were. The roof is no place for you. Come inside. I need your help anyway."

"I'm almost done," Aoba called down. "I just need to patch up the underside."

"Thank you," Hikari responded. She ushered her ward indoors. "I hope you weren't in his way."

"He didn't tell me to leave."

The kitchen was warm and sweetly scented. The dirty dishes were stacked by the sink. Sakura slumped.

"I didn't help you," she realized.

"Next time," Hikari told her with a sigh. "You can dry as I wash, okay?"

They cleaned. An hourglass kept time by the stove. Sakura inhaled deeply, marveling at the ability to create food from so many disparate ingredients. Although it took a lot of dishes to accomplish.

"Smells good," she said, wiping a large mixing bowl dry.

Hikari smiled to herself. "Your brother loved this strawberry pie."

"Toji was allergic to strawberries."

"Hmm? What did I say? I meant he loved the smell."

Of course her brother adored the aroma of a dish that would kill him. "His appetite was legendary, even when we were kids." She paused in curiosity. "How did you two meet?"

"I occasionally baked or cooked for troops around the posts I was stationed at. I heard plenty of them complain about the military rations and tried to help with that when I could. Toji happened to be at my base for training and tried a stew I made. He was, um, insistent that he meet whoever prepared it. That's the first time I saw him."

Her brother falling in love with a chef made too much sense. She supposed Hikari was a good match for him. Her calmly innate maternity would counter his rash bravado. Sakura was surprised her brother saw that in her.

"Men can be very simple about certain things," Hikari went on. "And food is a big one. So, learning how to prepare a proper meal can make a significant difference."

"Since I have so many suitors."

"The amount doesn't matter, if you follow your heart." She smiled in, for her, a sly manner. "I wonder what kind of food Mr. Shinji likes."

"Probably something rich."

Sakura wanted to end this conversation. Ever since their trip to the Soryu estate her guardian's attitude towards Shinji shifted in degrees. Every day his existence seemed to offend her less, to the point of near positive remarks like that. Did knowing he came from wealth transform him that much?

"I don't know," Hikari replied. "He's so thin. He might not have a big appetite. In that case, you have to pay extra attention to smaller portions. Presentation is also probably important to him—"

"Hey, the hourglass is empty."

"Oh. Let's see how the pie is coming along."

She slid it from the stove, tested it, judged it done, and let it cool and set on the counter. A knock on the door rescued Sakura from further instruction. Aoba told them the job was finished. Hikari wrapped the pie up for travel, and asked Sakura to lend him a hand back to his home. She agreed; it beat out dishes and school work.

/\/\/\/\

They headed out. He carried the remaining lumber, and the ladder slung over his shoulder. Sakura managed both the toolbox and pie. It was a bright afternoon, the sun shining in dirty puddles along the roads as they walked.

"Thanks for the assistance," Aoba said. "Now and before."

"I didn't do much."

"Such modesty. You deserve a reward, and I can't finish this pie by myself. Want a piece before you go back?"

"Sounds good."

Sakura wasn't surprised at making friends with Mr. Aoba; she often found boys easier to deal with, even back at the orphanage. They were far from perfect but she appreciated their simpler directness. It was less of a bother to figure out what they wanted and how to live with them.

She was surprised he was so nice to her. He was at least as old as Hikari, a veteran, and as far as she knew didn't share any of her interests. The idea he was leading her into danger flickered through her mind. She dismissed it. Sakura did not consider herself attractive. And even if Mr. Aoba's tastes ran the deviant she felt assured she could injure him enough to run away. But he had never given her an odd glance before, and pie waited. She continued on at his side.

They walked through the markets and down a side street to Aoba's home. His pace slowed a step and he peered ahead. On his front step was a man with dark hair and glasses wearing a military uniform. Sakura hesitated, watching Aoba for guidance.

His face split into a wide, true smile.

"Makoto Hyuga," he called out.

The man on the step looked up, smiled back, and waved. They met in the street with a handshake, the man clapping Aoba on the arm.

"Good to see you again."

"It has been some time."

Aoba began stowing his tools in the shed beside his house. "I wasn't expecting you until Tuesday. Did you go AWOL?"

"They gave me an early leave."

"And you took it?"

"Even I know the importance of a break now and then."

"You've changed."

Sakura watched the exchange with a bemused enjoyment. She had never seen Aoba this at ease.

"Ah, sorry," he said. "Sakura Suzuhara, this is Lieutenant Makoto Hyuga. An old army buddy on vacation."

"Not that old." Hyuga exchanged a bow with her. "Pleased to meet you."

"She's the sister-in-law of Mrs. Suzuhara I told you about. They moved here recently. I was out helping them with some home repairs."

"And you brought back just pie for me. What a guy."

"Not just for you," Aoba said, shielding it with his arm. He opened his front door and waved his guests up.

Sakura suddenly felt odd hanging out with two grown men. "I don't want to intrude."

"I promised you pie and I keep my word. Come on in."

The three entered his cramped home.

"Excuse the mess," Aoba said, waving vaguely. He set the pie on a table in the living room and collected chairs and dinnerware.

"This is nothing," Hyuga said. "It's better than the barracks we were in, back in the day. Hey, remember that time the Sergeant chewed you out for not making your bed?"

"I was out all night on watch duty, on his orders."

"And you reminded him of that."

"So he put me on breakfast duty."

"Despite it being after breakfast."

"So he sent me to clean the latrines."

"Except those were wiped out during the last attack."

Aoba shook his head. "Long story short, he forgot why he was yelling at me to begin with, and Makoto made my bed in the meantime. But he had to save face, so I was treated to an extended harangue which went nowhere."

"I still remember him in your face, screaming 'Do you know why I'm yelling at you, Private?'"

"He was all bark and no bite. But it started a mutually beneficial pact between Makoto and me to save each other when we could."

"I remain ahead by two saves, by the way."

Sakura smiled with them. "It sounds like your time in the army wasn't all bad."

"The highlights of my career were few and far between."

"Are you kidding?" Hyuga asked with a grin. "This guy was instrumental in winning the War."

"I was?"

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah. He was a frontline grunt for a time, it's true, but the higher-ups saw his technical ability repairing and maintaining arms, and promoted him to a top secret weapons division. Lieutenant Aoba here was on the first team servicing Iron Dolls."

"Um, are those toys soldiers play with?"

"Hardly."

Hyuga was grinning. "They were the weapons that won the War. The height of technological innovation and mechanical engineering. Without them we'd be stuck firing rifles from trenches against the Host. The Iron Dolls put us on equal footing. They are like gods upon the earth."

"That's enough," Aoba said sharply.

He arched an eyebrow. "I was trying to help you out," he said with a purposeful nod to Sakura.

"What?"

"I… You know. I mean, aren't you and her… Don't you want to impress her?"

Aoba stared at him. " _What?"_

"Sorry, I thought—"

"Makoto! She's a teenager!"

"Well, that doesn't necessarily preclude the—"

"What kind of person do you think I am?"

"I said I was sorry."

Sakura smiled uneasily. "Yeah, um, I think Mr. Aoba is really nice and I'm really grateful for all his help but… we're just friends, okay?"

The mood deteriorated as the room sank into silence. Feeling partially responsible for leading Hyuga on, she cleared her throat and addressed him.

"So, Mr. Hyuga. What do you do for the army?"

"Oh. I work for the ministry of defense."

"That's a little vague."

"That's how he likes to keep it," Aoba said, the previous transgression seemingly forgotten. "He could tell us, but then he'd have to kill us. And maybe purge the District, too."

"Don't scare her, man." He frowned. "Look. The War is over and we all want to keep it that way, right?"

"You don't have to tell me. The many outweigh the few."

Not for the first time Sakura felt like a third wheel. Whatever they spoke of was a sore subject. She didn't want to drive a wedge between two old friends. Maybe accepting the invitation to pie was a mistake.

"It was a desperate time and we faced an existential threat. And…" Hyuga trailed off, remembering they weren't alone. They shared a look. Their demeanors brightened. "And now I know why you didn't re-up, if you were following a cook who could make this good of a pie."

Aoba grinned. "You're always so simple. The pie baking is just a bonus."

"Did you help make this?" he asked Sakura.

"Sort of," she answered.

"It is quite good. Do they cover food prep at the academy I saw on the hill? You attend it, right?"

"Yeah, I do, and yeah, they try."

Hyuga chuckled. "If their results are a fraction of this, it's still miles better than what I usually eat. I know the troops would give anything to taste this." He smiled at her. "You know, the army isn't all about guns. It takes a lot of people behind the scenes to make it all function and—"

"Oh, boy," Aoba said. "Here we go. Fill that quota."

"—and we could always use a talented young person like you. There are a lot of employment opportunities for young women. Not just cooking, but clerical work, nursing, administrative assistants and the like… You'd be paid well with job security and a clear line of advancement."

Sakura offered a measured smile back. "I always heard the army was dangerous, poorly funded, undermanned and led by officers who worked hard only so they wouldn't have to fight themselves."

"Who told you all that?"

"My brother."

"A veteran, God rest his soul," Aoba said before Hyuga could bury himself.

"Oh. Well, s-some of that might have been true during the War, but it's a new era. Hostilities have ceased, the army is the engine of our economy now, employing more than ever, and promotions are given less out of necessity than merit. Things are changing for the better."

"You shameless spin man."

"I'm only stating the facts," Hyuga said. "It is true we're helping to push this country out of, not a ditch, but a grave. And we'll always welcome an extra set of hands to help us." He turned back to Sakura. "I know military presence is minimal down here but that doesn't mean it isn't an option. Have you given any thought about what you want to do after school?"

She stared at him. She never thought about that until presented directly with the question. Going to the academy trying to learn the proper way to pick up a fork never instilled in her a sense of preparation for the future. It was all abstract nonsense. She completed the lessons because she was expected to.

But now she realized: what options did she have? What skills made her unique and employable? Sakura considered herself adaptable but she lacked connections. Hikari had yet to touch upon the subject at all, which she felt was understandable. They both, in their own ways, mourned the past. The present was difficult enough without thinking of the future.

But if Hyuga was offering she should at least consider the option. The idea drained her almost immediately. The military took her brother away and sent him to his death.

"I don't think the army is for me," she said.

"And we respect that decision," Aoba said.

"… Of course. Sorry."

They ate pie. Aoba rose to fetch water. Sakura let her eyes drift around the messy room and again found the framed picture over the piano. Aoba and Hyuga stood together in uniform before an expanse of barren land. A curl of barbwire twisted by their boots. They were smiling.

"Ah," Hyuga said, following her eyes. "You noticed those handsome devils, eh?"

"Leave her alone," Aoba muttered, returning with drinks.

"Okay, okay. Man, it feels weird seeing that photo. A lifetime ago. I'm surprised you were able to hold onto it."

"Granted, I did leave with little but the shirt on my back but I kept a few things."

"Did the army take a lot of photographs?" Sakura asked them.

"They were pretty reliable about documenting as much as they could. No one knew if we would survive. So they hired anyone with a camera."

Her smile was wan. "I wonder if anyone took my brother's picture. I don't have any of him. Even Hikari doesn't. Sometimes it's hard to remember what he looked like."

Hyuga frowned. "Suzuhara, was it? I know some photojournalists in the capital. I'll see what I can do."

She brightened. "Really?"

"Uh, no promises. And it might take a while, but…"

The thought alone was enough. "Thank you, Mr. Hyuga."

"Sure." He leaned towards Aoba. "You sure you don't want to impress her?"

Sakura finished her pie and excused herself, leaving with thanks and positive feelings. The sun had dipped behind the mountains around the District. Everything was warm and orange. She tried hard to focus on her brother's face as she walked home. Was his smile always that crooked? Was his hair too messy?

She wondered how Hikari pictured him. As a soldier, or husband, or something else. To Sakura he was love and protection. A friend, but also a de facto parent. He made sure she was safe and warm and fed, even at his own expense. He could make her laugh with a thousand shared jokes, and dry her tears with his stubborn resolve. And she was forgetting what he looked like.

 _I miss you._

Did Hikari feel this helpless? She didn't know him very long but she was prepared to spend her life with him. All Sakura had was blood. Toji was obligated to help his younger sister. He wasn't obligated to marry Hikari. He chose that.

Some of the positivity escaped her grasp. But she didn't want to burden anyone with these feelings. She owed it to Hikari to be stronger than this. She owed it to her brother.

Sakura kept the possibility of a photo of Toji secret from Hikari. If it didn't turn out there was no reason for both of them to be disappointed. For now, her cloudy memories would have to suffice.

/\/\/\/\

End of chapter 3

Author notes: Again, all this buildup is necessary to me. It may seem disjointed, random and inane but the last two chapters tie a lot of it together. Hopefully. Alternately, stick around to watch me fail spectacularly.

Next chapter: Jail break into jail.


	4. Prisoner

The Long Dark

Chapter 4: Prisoner

Disclaimer: I do not own Evangelion.

/\/\/\/\

Sakura sat at the piano. It was an old upright, tucked against a corner of the raised platform at the back of the classroom, behind the desks. There was a large mirror mounted above it so the teacher could watch the students as she played. The songs they learned were filled with mournful patriotism, meant to conform their voices and minds. To engender a love of kin and country, and to close the distance between the two.

The teachers and headmistress saw the Academy as a bulwark against another war. They would influence the girls, who would influence their husbands, who would influence the world with patience, grace and empathy. Accordingly, conflict avoidance within the school was a serious consideration. Harassment of any kind was harshly disciplined. The girls entertained any number of interpersonal intrigues but bullying was judicious. Sakura often caught the periphery of conversations safely disparaging boy-chasers or big city arrogance without naming names. As long as the jabs were abstract concepts the teachers had no cause to punish.

Sakura bore it with a shrug. This kind of verbal and social abuse was new but not worse than what she endured before moving to District 20. Being treated as an invisible leper by her peers was novel at first. Now it was tiresome. They repeated the same veiled disdain in her earshot nearly every day. And when they weren't they ignored her completely. Their quest for a reaction was hopeless. Sakura Suzuhara was made of sterner stuff.

She was alone in the classroom. It was Saturday afternoon, the other students returning home for lunch, the teachers and staff remaining in the faculty office for month-end meetings. Hikari was taking minutes, as well as reporting on the academy's finances. She told her she didn't know how long it would last. Sakura volunteered to wait and walk home with her afterwards. Hikari was surprised, but happy.

So she waited. On the unyielding piano bench as afternoon sunlight drifted over the empty classroom. There were no clocks in the room to judge time, just the steadily lengthening shadows. Sakura stared at the open booklet of music on the piano, filled with an incomprehensible array of symbols. How someone translated that mess to music was impressive.

She depressed a key, producing a low, long note. She tried more. She searched the higher range for the right collection of sounds. She stretched her fingers, then rested them over the board. She played. Poorly, and without direction. She experimented for several minutes before giving up. Trying to reproduce the song Shinji played at Aoba's home was impossible. Sakura heard it clearly in her head, along with the visualization of his hands lightly dancing over the keys. She remembered his face during the song, calm and peaceful. Comfortable. Content.

She wanted to tell him that was how he made her feel, for the first time in years.

She sighed and glanced up at the mirror over the piano. The face that met her was hard. The eyes were dark and wary. The mouth was compressed to a thin line. It was a face she had seen too many times before.

Sakura shut her eyes and tried to conjure Shinji beside her on the bench again, giving her easy tranquility. The music wrapped around her and the orphanage, the War, the academy and her empty bedroom all became far away, like faded bad dreams from years past. She was warm and light. She reached out for him.

"Sakura?"

She opened her eyes and blushed, like she was caught stealing sweets. "Uh, yeah?"

Hikari was at the door of the classroom. "Sorry. Were you waiting long?"

"No," she lied. She regained herself. "Are you done?"

"Yes, we're finished for the day. Want to go home?"

"I'll be right there."

"Oh. Okay."

She left. Sakura grabbed the sheet music booklet and stuffed it into her school satchel.

/\/\/\/\

She met Hikari at the gates outside the Academy. They departed with a few straggling staffers, travelling the dirt road on the hills overlooking the town proper. The path curved along the valley ridge, above the rooftops before sliding into a wide street beside the post office.

It was early afternoon, bright orange and warm. The town was slow and quiet. Hikari was in conversation with the other staffers about a recent accident in the mines, speaking in a casual, easy tone. She seemed to be fitting in quite well.

"Don't you know someone who works in the mines?" one asked Hikari.

"Mr. Aoba," she affirmed.

"He wasn't injured, was he?"

"No, thank goodness. Apparently a major shaft collapsed overnight. No one was present but they shut the entire mine down as a precaution. The army has even sent engineers and representatives to help." She sounded a note of worry.

"Good," one staffer said. "That will bring in some men. This town is drowning in skirts."

The others giggled. "You're terrible."

They turned a corner and spied a pair of soldiers in uniform at a café. The two groups made eyes at each other. They passed by, and the staffers giggled again.

"Not bad," one said.

"It's been so long since we had guys here. I'm a little nervous."

"Well, get over it. How else are you going to snag a husband and get out of this town?"

The group reached a fork in the road and parted, the staffers heading for their homes across the District. Hikari and Sakura walked together to the small park at the end of their street.

She had watched her guardian during the exchange. Hikari wore a polite mask of civility but was silent. She did not look at the soldiers. Sakura knew she was very conservative about such things but her reaction felt like more than that. She was a recent widow, after all.

"Sorry," Hikari told her. "I think they forgot a student was with them."

"Oh. Yeah."

"They're not really thinking about what it means to have an army presence here."

Sakura peered at her tone again. "You don't like the army?"

"It isn't that," Hikari said. She paused, debating how to phrase it. "I'm grateful for their protection and I met a lot of very good people in it but that part of my life is over." She smiled. "I want to focus on you, now."

They reached their house. Hikari entered the kitchen and started a fire in the stove to heat water.

"I think we still have some muffins left," she said. "Would you like one and some tea?"

"Sure."

They sat at the table. They ate muffins.

"How was school today?" Hikari asked.

"Okay."

"… Oh. Good. You're getting along with your classmates?"

"Yeah."

"Your studies are going well?"

"Yes."

The water heated achingly slow.

"Um," Hikari began, "I saw you in the classroom at the piano. Are you interested in learning how to play?"

"Not really."

Hikari's face scrunched in dissatisfaction, then smoothed with a silent sigh. They ate.

Sakura felt a pang of regret. Hikari was trying to bond. She knew it would be easier if Toji was alive to bridge the gap. He would not stand to see his sister and wife at odds.

That was a poor excuse. Hikari deserved better for all she had done. She wanted to connect with her, Sakura knew that, but years of forced emotional guards refused to come down. The walls were too steep to climb.

"It might be fun to learn an instrument," Hikari thought aloud. "The Academy doesn't offer anything but I'm sure we could find someone in town…" She brightened. "Maybe we could ask Lady Soryu to have Mr. Nagisa instruct you. He did wonders with Mr. Shinji. It might be nice to learn beside him—"

"So now you approve of Mr. Shinji?"

"… What?"

"Just because he's rich?"

"N-Not at all," Hikari said, desperate to put out the fire. "I, I just didn't know what to think at first. He barely told us anything." She looked pained. "I only want what's best for you."

Her emotions weren't as fickle as Hikari's. Sakura approved of Shinji before they knew of his wealth. He made her feel good before they knew. Flinging her guardian's early admonitions about him back felt petty but justified. She swallowed it.

"I'm going for a walk," she said, and rose from the table.

Hikari rose with her, but refrained from stopping her. She watched Sakura grab her school satchel and head out the front door.

/\/\/\/\

The dusty street was empty. She set out towards the sun without purpose. She passed through the sparse lower sections of town, populated by scattered houses, meandering roads and a graveyard. Plots for farmers outside the district line crept into sight, along with natural hills and clusters of trees. Birds flew overhead in a chirping chorus. Squirrels fled from her path, scrambling up high branches.

It was a marked change from the city where wide buildings blotted out a dirty sky. Sakura had never seen all the way to the horizon before and her familiarity with wildlife extended to stray cats and rodents skittering beneath her bed. Being in the open, being in nature without another soul in shouting distance was lonely, but a different kind of lonely. Here there was no one to hurt or be hurt by. Here there was only Sakura. There was a measure of peace in being known by no one.

She didn't want to resent Hikari. But she only reinforced how powerless Sakura was. Without her, Sakura would still be stuck in the orphanage. She relied on her for food and shelter. She relied on her. The toughness she imagined she forged, forced to bear solitude and cruelty, mourning her brother, existing in a world at war, seemed worthless now. Her self-sufficiency was illusory, an imaginary figment of a mind that yearned to be strong. She wasn't like Toji, confidently brave. She wasn't like Hikari, gently responsible. She wasn't like Aoba, knowledgeably capable.

Shinji flickered through her mind, quietly talented.

Sakura looked up. She was deep in the forest, on the path to the Soryu Estate before she realized it. She felt the weight of the school satchel slung over her shoulder. She continued on.

Walls of trees lined the road. A falling sun slipped through branches thick with leaves. She did not see anything move in the forest. She was sweating before the path ended with the heavy iron gates of the Soryu Estate, standing over a story high. The walls on either side were likewise sturdy. Sakura ran a hand over one as it disappeared into forest. It was smooth, a sheer ascent.

She peered between the bars of the gate. The mansion sat on the low hill, along with smaller structures and several gardens. She could not see anyone. From this distance the estate was a dark shadow crawling over green grass.

Beside the gate was a lever. Sakura pulled it. A bell sounded. She waited. She pulled it again. She pushed an arm through the gate's bars and waved. Nothing around the estate moved.

Time passed. She was seated below the lever, idly pulling it when a voice slipped over her head.

"Ms. Suzuhara. What a surprise."

Kaworu was behind the gate, smiling down at her. She stood.

"Hello."

"What are you doing here?" he asked. His tone was not an affront, merely curious.

Sakura collected herself. "I wanted to see Mr. Shinji. Is he available?"

He tilted his head back towards the mansion. He hummed melodiously. "Let's find out, shall we?"

Kaworu unlocked the gate and it swung open. He stepped aside to allow her access.

"Thank you," she said, realizing how bad the odds of this trip being successful were.

They headed to the estate. Sakura looked him over. He was still in black but his shirtsleeves were rolled past his elbows. Dirt and soil marred his pale skin.

"Doing some gardening?" she asked.

"Indeed. I tend to the estate grounds for Lady Soryu. Watching things grow is fascinating."

"Yeah." _Weirdo._ "And you also teach Mr. Shinji," she recalled.

"His education is a joint effort."

"Lady Soryu teaches him, too?" The concept struck her odd. She didn't seem the nurturing type.

"She is in charge of what he learns," Kaworu spoke. "Watching things grow is fascinating," he said again. The smile never left his lips.

They crested the hill before the front doors. The estate loomed over them, dark and jagged. Sakura glanced over the windows, all shuttered or covered by drapes. She wondered if that was the norm, and if the soaring windows in the parlor were only opened for visitors' benefit.

"I apologize," Kaworu told her, "but with such short notice I cannot guarantee proper service for guests."

"That's fine. Don't worry about me."

He eyed her. "If I may be so bold, why exactly are you here?"

"I, I have something to give Mr. Shinji," she said, clutching her satchel. "And I should give it to him in person."

He accepted that, still smiling. It was difficult to read sincerity when his expression never changed.

Kaworu opened the front doors and allowed her entrance. Inside was silent. Scattered gaslights burned dim spheres of illumination in the dark, reflected faintly on the polished metal of the weaponry displayed behind glass. Sets of firearms, expertly crafted, alongside swords, axes and lances lined the walls.

Like a weird military museum, she thought.

"A moment, please," Kaworu said. "Allow me to find Lady Soryu."

He motioned to a slim couch by a display case. Sakura sat and he disappeared through a side door that blended into a wall panel. She waited. She kicked her feet. She whistled in the dark. She craned her neck and peered into the case beside the couch.

Inside was a collection of pistols, perfectly formed of gleaming metal and polished wood. She had never been this close to a gun before. They looked long and heavy, resting on a plush red backing. She admired the complex craftsmanship, the way disparate parts blended into a working whole.

Sakura looked closer, squinting to make it out in the poor light. There was a symbol etched into every pistol on the bottom of the handle. A maker's mark.

"Ikari," she read aloud.

"I didn't realize you had an interest in arms."

She bolted upright. Lady Soryu was at the top of the staircase in the foyer. She descended, one hand grazing the rail, adorned in a magnificently delicate green gown. But clothes only served to enhance her. Asuka possessed an ageless, glowing beauty of natural effortlessness. Sakura watched her in helpless inadequacy. Who was she trying to upstage, alone in this mansion?

"I was just looking," she said dumbly, stepping away from the case. She recalled her manners and bowed. "Thank you for seeing me."

"Nagisa already let you in," she responded. "Curiosity got to me. You're here to see Shinji."

"Yeah. Um, do you mind?"

Asuka stood before her, a gracefully imposing height. "Why do you want to see him?"

She supposed it was an awfully long way for a simple house call. "I have something to give him."

"Do you?"

There was no venom in Asuka's tone. There was barely idle interest. Her face was placid, her eyes keen. Her posture was admirable. There was nothing outwardly threatening about her but years of scrambling to exist had honed Sakura's survival instincts razor-sharp. Tense anxiety crept over her in a cold sweat. She felt her pulse throb in her ears. Depending on her answer, maybe Lady Soryu would kill her and have Nagisa bury her corpse in the garden.

"Uh, it, I mean, I know he likes to play piano." She produced the sheet music she took. "So I…"

Sakura realized how silly it was to gift Shinji a stolen booklet of songs from her school. He played by ear with a sophisticated taste. What possible interest could he hold for the childish propaganda she was forced to memorize?

She slumped in shame, again feeling sorely out of place here. Asuka carefully reached out for the booklet. In resignation Sakura let her take it.

She skimmed through it without reaction. "I'll give it to him. He's resting right now. I'll be sure to let him know you stopped by."

"I'll wait," Sakura said quickly.

Asuka glanced at a clock mounted over the front door. "Your guardian will worry."

It was very late. Hikari would indeed be upset. But she was already here. Best to make the most of the visit and face the consequences later. She was about to communicate that sentiment when Asuka turned away from her.

"Nagisa," she said. He appeared, like magic, from a side door. "Bring a carriage around the front and escort Ms. Suzuhara home."

He bowed assent and left before Sakura could get a word in. Lady Soryu's commanding adulthood stifled her tongue to protest. She was powerless again.

"Please tell Mr. Shinji…" She paused in thought. She slumped further. "Please tell him I wish him well."

They waited for the carriage. The silence did not appear to affect Asuka at all. She watched Sakura without shame.

"You said Shinji liked to play piano," Asuka spoke at length, in a mildly wondering tone.

"He seemed to enjoy it when he stayed with Mr. Aoba."

"Interesting."

Did he usually not? Sakura swallowed her fear. This opportunity would not easily present itself again. The living situation in the mansion demanded investigation. In an inconspicuous a way as possible she checked Lady Soryu's hands. No wedding ring. Certainly, she was of age. Didn't nobles sell their children off for money and power?

"How long has Mr. Nagisa taught Mr. Shinji?" Sakura led.

"Many years."

"Has it always been just the three of you here?"

"Yes." The same composed lack of offense.

"You don't get lonely, way out here?"

"No. Shinji is our focus."

"Oh. Um, Mr. Nagisa mentioned you teach him, too. What do you teach him?"

In a tone she thought lacked amusement at Kaworu's loose tongue, Asuka said, "History, mathematics, the sciences. Nagisa handles the arts." There was a slightly dismissive note about that.

"What are you teaching him for?" Sakura asked.

She looked at her, in a manner of painful obviousness. "To be the best possible within our means."

To be the best possible, cooped up in this empty mansion? What was the point in that? Who did that benefit? She couldn't believe he was content with that. She saw how he acted away from and in front of his guardian. The difference was too stark to be ignored.

"Is that what Mr. Shinji wants?"

"What he wants?" Asuka repeated. She stared at her evenly. "My concern is what he needs."

The front doors opened. Kaworu stood in the threshold, a horse and carriage behind him. Asuka approached the staircase, booklet still in hand.

"The hour is late," she said, already ascending. She did not look back. "Shinji will know you visited."

She was gone, disappeared in the shadowy upper floors of the estate. Sakura was left in the entranceway looking up after her, peering through dim gaslight burning a low, steady flame.

/\/\/\/\

Kaworu closed the heavy front doors behind her. There were no windows into the foyer, just the dark façade of the mansion entrance. Sakura looked at it with a sense of defeat, an opportunity missed. Not just to see Shinji again but to learn why his life at the estate bothered her so much. It was clear now Lady Soryu was the gatekeeper, coolly blocking access to her ward. But why? Shinji might be thin and meek but he survived an unguided trek through the dense woods to District 20. He never showed any signs of sickness or infirmity. Why was Asuka so set on secreting him away from the rest of humanity?

The horse snorted and stamped a hoof. Kaworu was beside the carriage, holding the door open for her. Sakura approached without enthusiasm, trying to imagine how upset Hikari was. Would she be angry? Worried? Glad she was safe? Sakura knew she would not be pleased at an afternoon stroll turning into a hike to the Soryu Estate. Even now, the sun was fading under streaks of vivid pink and red. It would be dark by the time she returned home. Just in time for supper and a scolding. Hopefully Hikari wouldn't cry.

"Ms. Suzuhara?"

She paused and turned around. At the foot of a mansion turret surrounded by a small, fenced garden a side door was open. Shinji's head poked out.

She brightened. She waved. He looked indecisive, half out of the doorway. Sakura remembered she wasn't alone. Kaworu spied him too, watching to see his next action. She decided to make it easier for him.

Sakura headed to the side door. She reached the garden fence and unlatched the gate herself, entering but stopping a few steps before Shinji. He was tensed, staying under the threshold. His eyes glanced about nervously.

"Hi," she said.

"What are you doing here?"

She chose against teasing him for such an unwelcoming welcome. He sounded genuinely unnerved.

"I was in the neighborhood," Sakura joked.

His anxiety increased.

"It's been a long time."

"You might get in trouble…"

She shrugged. "Hikari isn't a harsh disciplinarian."

"That's not what I meant."

"Well, I can't stay much longer." She nodded to the darkening sky. "So…"

Beating around the bush only wasted both their time. Sakura drew herself up.

"I wanted to see you," she confessed. "It's been kind of lonely. I mean, Hikari's always there, and I've seen Mr. Aoba a few times but… I keep wondering how you're doing." She smiled. "I really enjoyed the time you spent with us. Did you?"

"I did," he admitted.

"Good." The smile she sought refused to cross his lips. "You should visit again, sometime."

"… I have to stay here," Shinji said.

She watched his tension dissolve into despondency. His limbs hung heavily off his frame. His eyes scoured the ground around his feet. His hands, once bound in disquieted fists, now fell tiredly by his sides.

"I'm not like you," he told her. "I'm not… I'm not strong."

She stepped forward and grasped his hand in hers. She squeezed.

"Don't give up," Sakura said.

Now she was sure. The estate was spacious and grand, but a cage was a cage.

It was why she first aided him without hesitation at the Academy. The face he wore, of fear, pain and disillusionment, was the face of a prisoner. A face she saw too many times in the orphanage. A face she worked hard not to see in the mirror. A face she never wanted to see again.

He blushed brightly, staring at her hands wrapped around his. He was warm and smooth, his skin untroubled by imperfections. She squeezed so hard she felt his pulse throb.

"Promise me," she said.

"What?"

"Promise me, you won't give up."

Compliance was a struggle. At length he offered a distracted half-nod that she accepted.

She withdrew her hands from his. He slid free and held it to his chest in a wondering, delicate manner. His eyes were wet deep blue, shining in the twilight.

They parted and Sakura meandered to the carriage. She entered on her own and Kaworu, ever smiling, ascended to the coachman's seat. With a gentle whip they glided away from the mansion. Sakura peered out the window through the darkness. Shinji remained at the side door, watching until they were out of the estate grounds.

She sank back into the plush seat. She smiled widely, holding her hand to her chest. She still felt his warmth in her grasp. It was a bolstering, invigorating heat, filling her and burning away the numb weakness she suffered under all day. He would make her strong.

Already she wanted to see him again. She wanted to hear him play piano once more, free and unrestrained. She wanted to feel warm and light by his side. She wanted to make him warm and light. She wanted his smile to return to her.

She wanted to save him.

/\/\/\/\

End of chapter 4

Author notes: I guess I needed to be clearer from the start. This is an AU. I was going for a quasi-Victorian gothic vibe. In Japan? What was I thinking?

Next chapter: Actual plot development. In the penultimate chapter. What was I thinking?


	5. Crucible part 1

The Long Dark

Chapter 5: Crucible part 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Evangelion.

/\/\/\/\

So far, no one suspected her. The teacher noticed the sheet music was missing from the piano in the classroom but seemed more upset with herself for misplacing it than suspicious of her pupils. The students were quietly grateful that music class was postponed.

Not that Sakura was about to inform them of the truth. She knew any positivity towards her would be snuffed out as quickly as it appeared. One temporary boon wouldn't erase her status of social pariah.

It was lunch period. The teacher left for the faculty lounge and the students were free to eat in class, their seating rearranged into socially conscious clusters of hierarchal popularity. Sakura ate alone at the bottom of the totem pole, letting the hum of conversation flow over her. Today seemed to be a day of silent disregard from her peers. That was fine. The isolation made her feel closer to Shinji. If he endured it, so would she.

The determination to save him had not waned even as practical reality settled over her desires. She admitted she had no means to alleviate his situation but her own advice echoed in her ears. She would not give up. Certainly not when he needed help and no one else seemed interested in offering aid.

She pondered different avenues of attack, refusing the natural discouragement when she ran down a dead end. She remembered her stubborn brother complaining how stubborn she was when her mind was made up.

She vowed to fight the Host forces herself when he was conscripted, so he wouldn't have to leave her. The last time she saw him was when he dropped her off at the orphanage, wearing a smile for her benefit, trying to reason with her. The army didn't accept girls. She told him the army was stupid. He said he was grateful they didn't, so she'd stay out of harm's way. She told him he was stupid. She had two good eyes and two good arms so give her a rifle and she'd fight, same as him.

" _I want you to fight,"_ he told her with a prideful smile in his voice. _"Fight until I get back to you. Fight to be yourself. Don't care what nobody says to you: you're tough. You're a Suzuhara. We don't give up. I won't stop fighting until I see you again. So you can't stop fighting, either. It's a promise."_

He broke the promise but she remained the last Suzuhara. She remained the sister he wanted to keep fighting. She would remain tough. She owed it to him.

"Ms. Suzuhara?"

The school receptionist was at the classroom door, wearing a beckoning look. Sakura rose from her desk and approached.

"You have a visitor," she said.

"Really?"

"He said he was a friend of your brother."

Sakura was heading for the entrance before the receptionist could say another word. She hurried after, fretting.

"He was very polite, but insistent. Um, should I tell Hikari?"

"I'll take care of this."

She paused at the double doors leading to the foyer and front desk. Her hands shook over the handle. Sakura breathed deeply, and pushed the doors open.

Standing before the reception desk was a man. Sandy hair fell around thick glasses. A pair of satchels was slung across his chest, one hand gripping the straps tightly. He looked mildly uncomfortable in a girl's academy, his free hand drumming absently on the desk. It dissolved as he spotted her. He smiled.

"You're Sakura Suzuhara," the man said. "I can see Toji in your eyes."

She stopped short. "You really knew my brother?"

"Here." He produced a photograph from his shirt pocket. He handed it to her. "I'm a photojournalist. I was embedded in Toji's unit for most of the War."

Sakura gazed at the picture. Her brother and the man with glasses stood side by side before a blasted wasteland. The man gripped a camera by his waist. Toji loosely held a rifle in one arm, the other was hung around the man's neck. They both smiled.

"My name is Kensuke Aida," he told her. "It's great to finally meet you, Ms. Suzuhara."

 _Toji._

It was years since she saw him. Her vision blurred and the photograph trembled. She forced the emotion back in check, determined not to cry in front of an audience.

"Thank you," Sakura managed.

"I have more to give you," Kensuke said, patting the satchels.

"Um," the receptionist began, back behind her desk, "school is still in session."

"Oh, right. I can wait around, if you don't mind. When do you get out?"

Hikari flitted through her mind. She was still upset with her over the impromptu trip to the Soryu Estate, and hovered around her outside school. But Sakura wanted this for herself, first. She was forced to share her brother with so many other people she felt entitled to a little selfishness. She was sure Hikari would forgive her.

The doors to the classroom hallway creaked open. A gaggle of other girls crowded behind it, jostling for a peek at manhunter Suzuhara's newest conquest. Sakura frowned.

"We can go somewhere to talk now," she told Kensuke.

"Uh, is that okay?"

"It's fine," she said. She turned to the fretting receptionist. "Please tell Hikari I'll meet her at home later."

"But…"

Sakura was already heading out to the front gates. Kensuke offered a contrite smile, then hurried after.

/\/\/\/\

They walked down the path from the Academy to the town proper. It was sparsely populated, being a school day. Although the mine remained closed, most of the workers spent the day indoors. There were a few soldiers roaming the District, reconnoitering streets and buildings. What that had to do with helping the collapsed mine escaped Sakura.

She led them to a small cafe in the shadow of the Academy. All the outdoor tables were empty, along with the dusty street it rested on. A waiter approached as they sat, eying them with shameless curiosity. Sakura waved him away with a promise to order later.

"You're sure you won't get into trouble?" Kensuke wondered again as the waiter left.

She shrugged. "This is more important than school."

He nodded vaguely. "I suppose so…" He removed one of the satchels and reached inside. "Ah, I should have given this to you first thing."

He handed her a bent dog tag with Toji's name. She cradled it in her hands a moment, before angrily wiping at her eyes. She read his name over and over, reluctant to let it go in case it vanished. Kensuke smiled gently.

"Keep it," he told her. "Everything I brought today, you should have it all. You were his only family."

He pulled more items from the bag; personal effects, conscription papers, uniform name tags, every letter Sakura sent him during the War and stacks of photographs featuring Toji. There had to be months' worth. She spread the pictures before her and the rest of the world faded. She could hear the good-natured bluster of his voice again. She remembered the way he crossed his arms high up his chest when making a point. How his sharp eyes scouted every area they entered for possible threats to her safety. The warm comfort of his easy smile, even in the hardest times.

" _You can't stop fighting, either. It's a promise."_

She nodded to herself. It was still a promise she had to keep.

Sakura grinned at one photo of her brother, holding Kensuke upside-down by the ankles. He was in a number of the pictures alongside her brother; eating at a rustic mess hall, playing cards beside a campfire, making eyes behind an officer's back.

"He was a really good guy," he told her. "But I'm sure you knew that." Kensuke grinned without humor. "I got out of active combat duty to document everything I could with my camera. But Toji never held it against me. He knew I was still out there in the trenches risking my life."

He looked at the photographs with her, lingering over one with Toji diligently cleaning a boot. His smile became genuine.

"I wasn't looking to make friends when I was conscripted, I just wanted to make it out alive, but it was hard not to like Toji. He was there on my first day and offered to show me around." He chuckled. "I think it was just to get out of mess duty. He never minded being photographed, either, so I sort of hung out near him after that, taking pictures, and we started talking. About how bad the food was, or how incompetent the commanders were."

Kensuke glanced up at her across the table.

"After a while we talked about both being orphans and how rough it was to scrape by. He talked a lot about you. It ate him up having to leave you in that orphanage. But he said you were tough, and you wouldn't give up. That you two made a promise."

He looked away and tried to lighten the mood.

"Toji also talked about what he wanted to do when he was out of the army. He sounded embarrassed but he told me he wanted to be a physical education teacher. I think that, you know, that would have suited him well."

Sakura nodded readily, having pried that information out of Toji years ago. She was glad, even in the middle of a war for survival he held onto his dreams. He didn't give up, after all.

She paused over one picture of her brother, hunkered down in a trench with a rifle, staring out at a vast expanse of dead earth. His expression was hollow, his nose nearly brushing against a twist of barbwire.

"How did Toji die?" she asked.

Kensuke's face went slack, and for a moment he was silent. He nodded to himself.

"It was during a Host raid on our line. One of their giants descended from above the clouds on our position. It was right on top of us. We should have retreated. But the commander scrambled troops to mount a resistance. Toji was among them. He…" Kensuke bit off something. "It was fast. He didn't suffer."

"Oh." Sakura recalled the memorial in the capital park. "But there was no body left to recover, right?"

"… Right. The Host weaponry on their giants was… effective."

"So if Toji was under a smarter commander, he might have survived?"

He stared hard at her. "I did that to myself a long time. Asking yourself what-ifs like that isn't good, okay? I can't… Look, I wish I had a better answer to give you, and I can't tell you how to live, but don't do that to yourself. Please. Nothing good will come of it."

They were both quiet for a time. The waiter returned, saw the mood, and left again.

"I'm not excusing it," Kensuke said at length, "but there was a lot of inexperience in our command line back then. The army was desperate. Too many died needlessly. It's better now, but sometimes I still wonder what we're doing…"

He looked off down the street, searching.

"Something's happening in this District. The mine collapse was a cover story. The army shut it down to mask the movement of troop buildup with their engineer corps. Whatever it is, it's serious. I heard rumors of Iron Doll units being mobilized. Basically," Kensuke said, "I'm saying you should be very careful. Or leave town for a spell. Which leads me to this."

He slid the other satchel to her under the table.

"Toji was pretty clear I give this to you if anything happened to him."

Sakura opened it. Stacks of tightly bundled government currency met her. She quickly closed the satchel.

"What is all this?" she whispered.

"All of your brother's earnings from the War. He was diligent about saving it for you." Kensuke grinned. "He developed into quite the savvy gambler."

She peeked inside again. She had never seen this much money in her life.

"The government was pretty liberal about payments," he went on. "It was little more than a gesture at the time but for anyone who bothered to save it all, it was a nice chunk of money."

Sakura held the satchel, the weight of her Toji's wages pressing heavily on her. She looked over the photographs again, his dog tag and personal effects. He felt like her brother again, no longer a vague specter haunting her dreams. She had been afraid to learn too much because it would cement his death, and had avoided asking Hikari for many details. She barely knew anything about her guardian, even now.

But holding a clearer picture of her brother now, his last years in focus, moved her closer to acceptance she postponed over guilt for leaving him to die. How dare she ever be happy again after Toji was gone.

She realized that was silly. He complained about people living in the past. Moving on wasn't always easy, he admitted, but if you weren't moving it was the same as being dead. Life was motion.

Hearing about his friendship with Aida, seeing it in the pictures, knowing he hadn't changed, holding the money he saved for her future all gave her renewed trust in Toji. Her brother would always be her brother, even if he was gone, even if he only lived on in her heart.

The totality of all she received was overwhelming. She had no way to repay this kindness.

"Thank you, Mr. Aida."

"You're welcome," Kensuke said easily. "I've actually been looking for you for some time. Toji talked a lot about you, stuck in that orphanage. After the War I found it, but they had no record of where you were. It wasn't until Lieutenant Hyuga contacted some photojournalists in the capital that I got a break. How on earth did you wind up all the way down here?"

"Hikari found me," Sakura said slowly. "She adopted me and we moved here."

"Who?"

"Hikari. Toji's wife."

"Toji wasn't married."

How could Aida know so much about her brother and not know that? "Oh," she began, "she said they wed in secret because her family didn't approve of him. They weren't married long."

He cocked his head at her and frowned. "Our unit moved around a bit but I was with him for a long time. Especially at the end. His final post was the frontline. We were there for months. There were no women out there."

"Then it must have happened before that."

"He didn't have a ring, he didn't file with the army," Kensuke said. "He put me in charge of his earnings. His will. He told me all of it went to his only family, you. Sakura Suzuhara." He was outwardly calm but his intonation edged into anger. "Who is this woman? Is she after Toji's pension or something?"

She felt dizzy. This didn't make any sense. "N-No, Hikari was in the military, too. That was how they met. She said she cooked for him."

"I would remember him mentioning a decent meal. Sure, there were a few nurses and clerical staff now and then but I was Toji's closest friend. He would have told me if he was married, if nothing else than to alter his will. He never did."

"But… he had to…"

"He never did," he repeated, voice sure and strong. He paused. "Where is this woman?"

There was an underlying, immediate danger in his tone. Sakura tried to study him quickly. He looked harmless enough with a small frame and boyish features behind oversized glasses, but his eyes were hard. A toughness beyond what she knew. There was a darkness shadowing him. It reminded her of the lost look Aoba tried to hide. She held a sudden fear of what this person might do to Hikari.

Sakura hurriedly collected the photographs and other effects into the satchel. She rose from the table.

"Wait," Kensuke said.

"No. No, I, I have to go. I need to—"

"If someone is pretending to be Toji's wife, I have a right to know—"

"No, you don't," Sakura said, backing away. "You don't."

He looked stricken. "I'm sorry. Sorry. I, look. I… Let me come with you. This woman might be dangerous or something. I mean, she's lying about marrying your brother. Who knows what she's capable of?"

Sakura held a sudden, clear image of Hikari in the kitchen, greeting her on Sunday morning with breakfast and a smile. That was what she was capable of. She was a kind, selfless, if overly protective, guardian. She was the person who rescued her from a life of neglect.

Why do that unless she was Toji's wife? What did she gain from accepting the responsibility of raising her? Why would she lie to her?

She needed to talk to Hikari. She needed her to tell her it was all a misunderstanding. Then she could explain to Aida. Then, together, they could properly mourn Toji.

He held his hands up, showing no sudden movements but trying to get around the table to her. "Let me help. Toji helped both of us. His memory deserves better than some woman stealing him—"

She ran. She ran, using the twisting architecture of the town to lose Kensuke. His calls to her were soon silenced, and all she heard was her ragged breath over the scrape of her shoes on the dusty streets.

/\/\/\/\

The afternoon sun was plummeting behind the valley mountains, bathing the town in deep orange haze. Cicadas sang the approach of night. The church clock tower struck, echoing over the low buildings of the District.

The house was dim and silent. Shadows crept along the floorboards in jagged angles.

The front door opened. Hikari entered.

"Sakura?" she called out, shutting the door behind her. "Are you here?"

"I'm here." She sat halfway up the stairs.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"No."

She watched Hikari slip her shoes off, shed her jacket and drop her work briefcase.

"What are you doing, sitting in the dark like this?" she muttered, finding a lamp in the kitchen. She stopped at the foot of the staircase, looking up at her with earnest worry. She sighed. "We need to talk."

"Okay."

"Do you realize how worried I was? I searched the school and town for you. You can't keep wandering off like this. First to the Soryu Estate without a word, now skipping school with a stranger? That's incredibly dangerous. Who knows what he might have done. This is a bad habit you're getting into. I realize the Academy isn't terribly thrilling but it's important. How do you expect to grow up right if you don't make an effort?"

Sakura was silent.

Hikari let a nervous hand tug on her skirt. "Promise me you won't do this again. I'm just, I want what's best for you. You need to trust me on this, okay? Thank goodness you're safe." She paused, noting the continued lack of protest or reaction from her ward. "What's wrong?"

"I met Kensuke Aida today," Sakura said.

"What?"

"Kensuke Aida."

Hikari shook her head. "Sakura, what are you talking about? You're not—"

"Tell me who he is."

"What?"

"Tell me who he is, please."

Hikari sighed. "Is this the stranger you left with today? The receptionist said he was a friend of Toji. But that's—"

"I'm not asking what the receptionist told you. How did he know Toji? How did they meet? What was his job?"

"How can you be certain he even knew your brother?"

Sakura tossed a photograph down to her of Toji and Kensuke side by side, both in military fatigues. Hikari studied it.

"He knew him. I'm sure. Now answer me."

"They were soldiers in the same unit," Hikari said. "They met after they were conscripted."

"So they were both in active combat?"

"Yes."

Sakura felt ill. She ran a sweaty hand over her mouth. She tried to swallow and failed. "No, he wasn't. Mr. Aida was a photojournalist. He met Toji while covering the War. Why didn't you know that?"

"I never met any Aida. I told you before, Toji and I weren't married very long."

"Mr. Aida said Toji was never married."

"That's ridiculous."

She was calm. The flickering lamp illuminated a composed face. Her voice was even. She clutched the picture so tightly her fingers were white.

Hikari was never evasive in talking about her brother but was always carefully vague. She spoke in glowing generalities. But her word was the only proof she offered. She didn't possess any evidence, not even a wedding photograph.

"Then why didn't you know about Mr. Aida? He was with Toji at the end. He knew things, things Toji had to have told him. Things you never mentioned."

"I don't know any Aida but I knew your brother. I knew he was a good man. He loved you and wouldn't want you to agonize over—"

"Stop it." Everything was unraveling. Her thoughts were slipping apart. "Stop it. Stop talking like that. Why can't you tell me anything about him? Anything real?"

"… So you believe some stranger over me?" Hikari asked. "I saved you from that orphanage."

"That's beside the point."

"No, that is the point. I looked for you because you're family. You're my family now. Just like Toji was."

"Then tell me about Toji. How old was he? What color were his eyes? What was his favorite food? What was the nickname he gave me when we were kids? What sport did he like to play? Which hand had a scar on it from when he fell out of a tree at age ten? How long were we separated after he was conscripted? Where did we grow up? What was his favorite kind of music? What were his plans for after the War? Who taught him how to read and write? What was the one flavor of candy he could not stand?"

Sakura shook her head.

"Say _something."_

Hikari stared at her, unable to answer.

"Who are you?"

The sun fell behind the mountains. Night curled over the sky. The house grew dark. Sakura stared at the stranger at the bottom of the stairs.

" _I loved him!"_ Hikari yelled. "I know he could have loved me, too! It's not my fault we didn't get a chance. He, he died. He died before I could tell him and I, I didn't—Sakura!"

She was up the stairs. She shut her bedroom door and locked it. Hikari was too slow to catch her. She tried the handle, then beat her tiny fists against the door. She called Sakura's name. She pleaded. She yelled. She cried.

Sakura wasn't listening. She stuffed as many clothes as she could into the satchels Aida gave her. She slung them over her shoulder.

She glanced around, searching for anything else she missed. Her eye caught her school notebook, open on the desk Hikari bought for her. In the room Hikari gave her, in the house they shared after she rescued her from the orphanage.

She hesitated. She tore a page from the notebook and scrawled two lines on it. She stuck it partway under the door as Hikari continued to despair beyond it.

Sakura opened the bedroom window and stepped onto the porch roof. She lowered herself over the eave, swung and dropped onto the dusty yard. At the street she paused to look back at the house. It rose a narrow darkness against the night. The sun was gone. Stars lit the sky.

Sakura turned away and began running.

/\/\/\/\

To be concluded


	6. Crucible part 2

The Long Dark

Chapter 6: Crucible part 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Evangelion.

/\/\/\/\

She ran moonlit streets. The District roads were dark and deserted, families safely indoors under gaslight, every house window a shadowbox. Sakura headed to Aoba's home beyond the shuttered marketplace. The pastel drapes were closed, no light shone under the door seam. She crept to his shed and selected a ladder from the rungs on the outer wall. After a moment, she set it down and reached into the satchel with Toji's money. She didn't know how much a ladder cost and hoped a handful would suffice. She stuffed the bills into Aoba's mailbox, hefted the ladder over her free shoulder, and headed to the western woods leading to the Soryu Estate.

Not that she had actively planned this out but stealing into the mansion property flitted through her head over the past few days, and the logistics settled into the back of her conscious mind. She needed a ladder to scale the gate but beyond that was nothing save a hazy, well-intentioned meeting with Shinji.

But her hand was forced. Sakura could no longer stay in the District with Hikari, nor could she leave Shinji trapped with Lady Soryu. Now she had the means to escape thanks to her brother. Now she could be strong on her own terms. She would rescue Shinji and together they would find freedom, for once in their lives.

The woods were nearly pitch black. She had to hold one arm out to feel the edge of the tree line and keep on the path. Here there was no moon or stars.

The estate gate swung out of the dark and she nearly collided with it. By instinct she hid, peeking through the bars to the mansion. It was a barely visible stain of black against the stars. She saw no lights, no movement.

Sakura laid the satchels by a bush and set the ladder, the top rung just below the full height of the gate. She ascended and lightly swung over the top, dropping to the ground inside the estate. She unlocked the gate for a swift exit. She approached the mansion.

She wasn't sure how she'd convince Shinji to leave with her, aside from calling in the favor he still owed her. Running away from home was not in the same scope as borrowing a book but he had experience with the former. She was positive the strength of her feelings would reach him. She wasn't worried about failing; they had to escape together. In her mind, there was no alternative.

But before she could convince him she had to find him. And gain access to the mansion. She stood at the front door, weighing her options. She tried the handle carefully; it was indeed locked. She crept to the side door near the small garden. It too was sealed tight. Of course Lady Soryu was paranoid enough to lock every entrance at night. She'd have to find an inconspicuous place to break in.

Sakura edged close to the building wall, coming within sight of the towering windows of the parlor. It took her a moment to realize a lantern was glowing inside, and she ducked away to hide. She peeked around the bend of architecture and saw Shinji holding the lantern, near the high book shelves lining the far wall.

She paused. One of the shelves was jutting into the room at an irregular angle. There was something behind it, a passageway she could barely make out from her vantage point. She watched Shinji disappear down it, the light from his lantern growing dimmer until it vanished completely into the inky black of the rest of the chamber.

Sakura waited. No one else came. No one emerged from the hidden passage. She waited.

She retreated to a small side window. She tested the strength of the glass. She removed her shoe and used the heel to break the top pane. The crash was devastating in the still night. She waited, molded against the wall, one eye raised to watch for anyone investigating the noise.

No one arrived. Minutes passed. Sakura steeled herself and used her shoe to clear enough space to reach through and unlatch the window.

She climbed into the empty parlor. Shadows swam across the room. Sakura moved towards the jutting bookcase. Beyond it was a narrow stairwell leading down into unnatural dark. She saw nothing but black.

Her hand reached in and found the cold wall. The palm slid, slick with sweat. She glanced behind her. The parlor was still. She faced forward. She stepped into the dark.

/\/\/\/\

Each step was a test of nerves. She tread slowly, utterly blind in the narrow passage. All she heard was the scrape of her shoes and her own uneven breath. She descended.

She stumbled as the stairs evened out to a floor. Light crept around the corner of a short passage ahead of her. Sakura held the wall, lined with pipes, edging towards the bend.

"Mr. Shinji?" she whispered.

The narrow hall opened to a massive chamber. The smell and heat hit her. It was harsh industry, all oil and flame. She was on a wide platform overlooking a pit dominated by a metal silo that rose to the intestinal tangle of wet pipes running the ceiling. It was dim. No natural light reached her. Scattered gas lamps outlined numerous vats and furnaces, rows of tables crowded with tools and texts, tubes and beakers of colored liquids, gauges and graphs displaying incomprehensible figures. Everything was well-used, nicked and stained. The floor of the platform was spotty with some type of liquid. Beyond that, the pit glistened in the near dark.

She tried to force what she saw into some sense. This was not a basement furnace. This was something unnatural.

She did not see anyone else on the cluttered platform. She crept forward along the tables, past unidentifiable machinery, crouching low, ready to break away. Every nerve was on edge, her muscles tensed for use. Her eyes made sweeping scans of the area. There were too many shadows, too many places to hide.

She paused by one of the tables. On it was a tall flask filled with tinted liquid. Floating inside was an eye. Stringy nerve tissue trailed behind it. She slowly walked around to see the iris. She knew the night ocean color.

"Mr. Shinji."

"Ms. Suzuhara."

She spun. Asuka emerged from behind a large vat across the platform. Shinji was in her shadow.

"It's late," she told her. "Won't your guardian worry?"

Asuka spoke and moved casually, strolling to block access to the exit. Her hands rested in large pockets of a white coat that brushed her ankles, stained and smeared with dark liquids. Shinji followed in her wake, head down.

"What are you doing here?"

Sakura struggled to remember the answer. Her eyes fell on Shinji. Resolve settled over her.

"I'm, I'm here for Mr. Shinji."

"It's rather late for a house call."

"I'm here because I'm leaving the District. I'm leaving, and, and I want Mr. Shinji to come with me." She silently pleaded for him to react, to look at her, to say or do something. He refused her. She hurried on. "I'm not leaving without him. So let him go."

"Let him go?" Asuka spared a moment to glance back at him. "I told you before, he must stay here. There is nothing for him outside these walls."

"You don't know that. You're just making excuses to keep him here. Mr. Shinji is smart and talented and nice. He doesn't deserve to be your prisoner."

"So that's how you see it." She appraised Sakura, almost in boredom. She gave the impression of a sigh. "You can't give him what he needs. With each iteration I move closer to the truth. I cannot stop now."

With a leisurely motion Asuka withdrew her right hand from the coat pocket. The pistol she held was long and heavy. Sakura froze in surprise as she lined up the sight. Shinji's eyes went wide. He rushed ahead.

"No—"

The crack of the gunshot was enormous, filling the entire chamber. Shinji's head burst apart above the left eye. His body shuddered and slumped to the ground. Dark red tumbled out of him, flowing freely over the floor.

Sakura screamed. She screamed without choice. She screamed until her lungs burned, until she panted guttural breaths in tears. She lost strength and her legs buckled. Her knees struck blood. She fell forward, catching herself with her hands.

Pain lanced each palm. She turned them over. Minute, toothed gears stuck into her flesh. There were dozens, hundreds more, in the blood pool, leading back to his opened skull. The red had drained enough to display the clusters of tubes and gears and piping inside. She stared.

Asuka looked on, taken aback but not upset. With a near shrug she reached into another pocket and began unceremoniously reloading.

"This third iteration continues to surprise me," she said. "An Iron Doll trying to rescue a human of its own volition, defying his creator… What blasphemy."

"You're not God," Sakura whispered.

"I would never claim to be so callous. I allowed you to see him. I allowed you to love him. But you could never make him who he needs to be."

She cocked the hammer. Sakura remained on the floor, in the blood, in the gears, quiet teardrops running down her face, staring at Shinji. Asuka stood over her.

"It hurts, doesn't it? Don't despair. You won't live with the pain long. You won't have to feel anything at all."

She aimed the pistol.

"Am I not merciful?"

Asuka never saw the pipe. It struck the back of her skull with a wet crack. She crumpled to the ground in a heap atop the pistol.

"Did I kill her?" Aoba asked, gripping the section of pipe.

"Sakura!" Hikari ran past him, covering her mouth at the scene. She edged the pool of blood and bent close to her. "Sakura! Are you okay!? Are you hurt?"

She did not answer. She stared blankly down at Shinji. The tears had stopped, nothing but wet stains down her cheeks and blouse.

"Sakura!"

Asuka groaned. Her body stirred in the blood pool.

"We need to get out of here," Aoba said.

"But… Sakura is…" Hikari was close to hysterics.

He stepped past her and dropped the pipe. He scooped Sakura up in his arms. "Come on."

They retreated back to the narrow staircase, Aoba leading the way. They ascended in the dark. The parlor came into view, light from the stars guiding them out.

Kaworu Nagisa stepped under the threshold holding a heavy gas lantern.

For a moment no one moved. Aoba pivoted Sakura away from him, keeping his eyes on Kaworu. Hikari bumped into his shoulder. Kaworu looked on, more inquisitive than anything else.

He moved aside, ushering them up.

Aoba only hesitated a breath before hauling both Sakura and Hikari by the wrist up into the parlor. They passed Kaworu.

They escaped through the front door to the wide lawn before the gate. They had crested the knoll for receiving carriages when they saw the first Iron Doll.

It emerged from the forest, rising above the tree line a tall, lanky shape against the night sky. Flesh and metal moved in concert as spindly legs easily stepped over the estate wall. Each footstep trembled the earth. Its breath shook the air. Hot mist escaped from the barred muzzle over its face. Red ember eyes burned through the dark, leaving fiery trails as it moved.

Another Doll appeared to the east. Then another to the north. They stalked towards the mansion. The main gate opened and soldiers poured in, as others scaled the walls across the estate grounds.

Aoba stopped running at the advancing wave, holding up one hand to show he was unarmed, the other keeping Sakura upright. Hikari followed his example as a squad surrounded them, rifles raised.

They were separated and taken into custody, ushered towards the gates by a small contingent. One of the soldiers was forced to carry Sakura. As he struggled to drag her along her eyes fell back on the mansion, ringed by men and Iron Dolls. It was in flames. Fire burst through windows, licked over the roof and ate away the surrounding gardens. It chaotically lit the night, casting shadows across the lawn as smoke and ash billowed up to blot out the moon and stars. The army was reduced to a crowd of spectators. Sakura watched with them as she was pulled away, the Soryu Estate burning under a sea of heat and light.

/\/\/\/\

A large swath of forest was cleared away outside the estate grounds for a provisional camp. Even now the sounds of Iron Dolls uprooting and snapping trees at the root drifted to her ears, above the bustle of regular soldiers and staff.

"Are you feeling any better now? Can you tell me if you're hurt anywhere?"

The army nurse met her vacant eyes. Sakura did not respond.

She was in a tent, sitting on a cot. The nurse tended to her, cleaning away the spatters of Shinji's oil blood from her. The wet rag she used was already dark with it. Sakura watched with a detached attention. That was probably all that remained of him now.

She reached up and weakly held the edge of the rag. The nurse startled, but let her have it. Sakura held it in her lap. Her hands became wet and dark. She stared at the rag, trying to feel something.

A voice from beyond the tent reached them: "We're coming in."

The tent flap lifted and Makoto Hyuga entered, along with another man. He was tall, needing to bend at the waist to make it inside. His scruffy hair brushed the height of the tent.

"How is she?" Hyuga asked the nurse.

"She doesn't seem injured but she hasn't said a word. I cleaned her up as best I could but…"

All eyes fell on Sakura. Her gaze hung on the rag.

"She needs rest," the nurse decided.

"Duly noted," the other man said, holding the flap open. "Thanks for your work."

The nurse could take a hint but frowned at them. "She needs rest," she reiterated as she was ushered out. "Don't do anything to stress her."

"Maybe we should let her be, sir," Hyuga said.

The tall man closed the tent and stood before the entrance. "Give me an update, Lieutenant."

"But…" He remembered his place. "The fire is out but it'll take some time to fully search the mansion remains. It appears the fire was started inside."

"Other survivors?"

"Nothing yet. We have a perimeter set up, along with checkpoints for thirty miles on all roadways."

"You don't sound hopeful."

"Initial excavations indicate a complex network of underground tunnels. There's no telling how long or how many there are until we physically explore each. It could take days."

"I see." The tall man's eyes never wavered from Sakura. "You know her, right?"

"I wouldn't say that, sir," Hyuga responded. "I met her once in the District, through Lieutenant Aoba. He knows her guardian."

"What was she like?"

"She was well-spoken, smart…" He frowned. "She missed her brother. He was a soldier who died in the War. She said she didn't have any photographs of him."

The tall man nodded vaguely. He was quiet a long moment. "Lieutenant, you're dismissed."

Hyuga looked surprised but held his dissenting tongue. "Yes, sir." He saluted and left.

They were alone. He watched her. She stared at the rag in her lap.

He squatted before her to find her eyes. "Hey there," he said brightly. "My name is Ryoji Kaji."

Despite his smile his eyes were heavy and dark. Old, tired eyes the rest of his face tried and failed to combat. Sakura's expression was blank.

He cleared his throat. "Mind if I smoke? I know some young ladies don't care much for it. No? Alright."

He fished a cigarette from an inner pocket on his jacket. He patted himself looking for a match.

"Just need a light…"

He craned his neck over to the lantern at the bedside. He inhaled, held it, sat on the earthen floor, kicked open the bottom of the tent flap as he stretched out, and exhaled a plume towards the portal.

"There."

He reclined against the side of the cot. The wood frame squeaked pleasantly.

He sat and smoked. His cigarette burnt away to half before he spoke again.

"I talked to Lieutenant Aoba and was able to piece together most of what happened. You must be confused, about a lot of what you saw. I think you've earned an explanation, at least.

"My job is to track down and contain any Iron Doll technology outside the army's reach. Basically, if someone is messing with something they shouldn't be, I'll find them." He paused. "I was late this time.

"We've been monitoring all the resources funneling to this District for a while. They were, in turn, funneled to the Soryu Estate. We knew something was going on here but I never imagined Soryu would miniaturize and sanitize Iron Doll technology. And for such a, um, mundane purpose."

He glanced behind at her, looking for offense. He met her blank face and continued.

"The Collaborator she employed, the one you know as Kaworu Nagisa, was a Host defector. We've been looking for him since he disappeared, before the Armistice was signed. He, like all Host, is immeasurably valuable. The technology taken from them created new weapons, including Iron Dolls. The key to our surviving the War. And the one who imparted the knowledge was Nagisa's sister, the Host scientist the army codenamed 'Rei.'"

Sakura was unmoved.

"Ah," Kaji said. "Forgive the preamble. I'll get to what you should know." He produced a new cigarette, using the fading first to light it. "Many years ago, before the Host invaded, there was a girl named Asuka. She was the lone heiress of the wealthy but dwindling Soryu family. She was arranged to wed the lone son of the small but brilliant arms manufacturing Ikari clan. His name was Shinji."

Her eyes flickered up from her hands.

"After the Host invaded Shinji Ikari was given an officer's commission in the army's weapon development division. The Ikaris were gifted but their arms were no match against the Host. That changed after we captured Rei.

"She was… uncooperative. The army did a lot of things to her to get her to talk. Things I cannot condone, but understand. We were all desperate. But Rei remained steadfast. The army had all but given up trying to get anything from her. With nothing to lose they sent Shinji in to take a crack at her. He opted for a different approach."

Kaji paused to smoke. He neglected the length of ash on the end of his cigarette until it fell between his legs.

"I don't know if it was all an act. I don't know if he truly loved her. But it was enough. Rei told him all her secrets, including how to create the giants the Host employed. The Ikaris adapted the technology and birthed the Iron Dolls.

"They are power unto the gods, constrained by man. They need conductors, humans, to activate. It was supposed to be a check on their strength. Shinji volunteered to be the first. He was determined to see the situation he began through to the end.

"The Doll killed him, devoured him whole. Nothing was left. From that failure the Ikaris refined the process. The subsequent Iron Dolls gave us equal footing with the Host. A few months later the Armistice was signed.

"Rei was found dead shortly after Iron Doll production began. The army ruled it a suicide but they had everything they wanted from her. A quiet execution isn't unthinkable. Her betrayal of her people for Shinji, more than her death, spurred Nagisa to defect, to find out why she did it. Why was humanity worth saving? He was obsessed with finding the answer. It led him to research Shinji. Which led him to Soryu."

He was quiet, smoking. The cigarette burnt away.

"Why tell me all of that?" Sakura finally spoke.

Kaji looked back at her, like he forgot he wasn't alone. He sobered. "My brother and I were conscripted together, right after the War began. We wound up in different units and lost contact. Those early days were… hard. I was focused on survival. I thought I could be strong and block everything else out. To try and forget about the scores of people dying around me. I even forgot about my brother most days.

"Eventually I was transferred back to the capital when Iron Doll production began. I thought, I made it out alive. I was one of the lucky ones.

"It wasn't until later I learned my brother volunteered for dangerous assignments behind enemy lines, scouting positions and capturing Host soldiers. He rose through the ranks, trying to reach a position with enough clout to get me into a safe post.

"When he died on a mission, the higher-ups took pity on me and transferred me off the frontline. All that time I spent looking out for myself, my brother spent looking out for me."

Kaji smoked. Ash drifted to the dirt floor.

"My brother died trying to keep me safe. I have an obligation to continue living. If I don't, then what did my brother die for? I can't make his sacrifice be in vain."

He rose, crushing his cigarette under heel.

"My brother is gone. He can't come back. Like your brother. And like Shinji Ikari."

Kaji lifted the tent flap with a forearm and ducked beneath it to leave. He did not look back.

/\/\/\/\

"Sakura?"

Hikari peeled the tent flap back and poked her head halfway in. She had not moved since Kaji left her, sitting on the cot, trying to absorb everything. Hikari hesitated under the threshold.

"I talked to the nurse. She said you weren't hurt anywhere, right?"

She wrung her hands. Feet scuffed the dirt. The look over her face was the same she wore the day they met. Tentative, self-conscious, but concerned. A yearning to aid despite misgivings. Sakura did not meet her eyes.

"I just want to make sure you're okay," Hikari told her. "Um, Mr. Aoba was worried, too." She hugged herself. "We found you from the letter you left me. You wrote 'Don't look for us.' I, I figured you meant Mr. Shinji and yourself. So, I went to Mr. Aoba for help and then we got to the Estate and saw the broken window and…"

Hikari looked genuinely upset.

"I'm so sorry about Mr. Shinji. I know you cared about him. I… I don't know exactly what you're feeling right now but I know how hard it is to lose someone you care for. I need you to know I truly did love your brother. I did cook for his unit once, like I said. And he did thank me. He smiled so easily at me, even in the midst of the War. How could I not fall in love with him?"

Sakura did not contradict her, and she took it as invitation. She entered the tent but kept her distance as much as she could. When she spoke again it was timid.

"What else you wrote, 'thank you.' I guess, you meant about the orphanage? I was glad to help. I still am. Because I… I wanted a family of my own. I wanted you to be that family, Sakura. If I could help you and you could help me, then, isn't that a good thing? I meant what I told you. I think we could both use a fresh start."

She inched towards the cot.

"Can't we go home? Together? We can start over again. You can go back to school and I can teach you how to cook and we can live like a family should. It wasn't perfect but it was better than what we had, right?" Hikari tried to smile. "What good is the truth if it makes us sad?"

Sakura gazed down at the rag clutched in her hands. It was dry now, stiffly twisted into a dark, grotesque mass. Her fingers were crusted with blood and oil, caked under her nails and trailing down her wrists.

All she could process was a numb pit inside her chest that froze out the anger and confusion and agony she knew should be there. It was like the surreal shock she experienced after Toji died. Sakura saw the world but everything was filtered before it reached her. Nothing touched her. Even now she was a thousand miles away from Hikari sitting right next to her.

Was this how Lady Soryu felt after Shinji died?

Maybe she and Nagisa were still alive, she idly thought. Maybe they would travel far away and restart. Maybe they would create Shinji again.

Maybe Sakura could find them.

Toji interrupted her plans about where to start looking.

 _You can't stop fighting._

 _Life is motion._

 _You can't stand still in time._

He was dead. She lived. He didn't have to continue on through pain and isolation. He didn't have debts to pay to the dead. He didn't have to feel.

She was tired of pretending to be strong. She was tired of fighting. All she wanted was to see Shinji again no matter the cost.

The dirty rag was heavy in her tiny hands.

A wellspring of disgust flooded through her. Ignoring reality to live a fantasy, disrespecting the dead and using them for your own desires was the domain of Lady Soryu. Asuka refused to accept truth and lost sight of her humanity. She grasped at delusion to satisfy herself. She killed her Shinji.

It would hurt. It would be lonely. But Sakura refused to emulate Asuka. She would not lower herself to that level.

Sakura looked up at Hikari. Her smile remained, hesitant but true.

"I'm not so desperate to mourn forever."

Hikari's smile strengthened as she nodded in encouragement. The smile faded. Her face fell, then collapsed into shame. She wiped at her left eye. A tear slipped free. Then another. She cried. She bowed her head as her shoulders shook from bitter, restrained sobs.

Sakura looked past Hikari. She looked past the open tent flap to the smoldering ruins of the Soryu Estate, waiting for the sun to break through the long dark of the ashen night sky.

/\/\/\/\

End

Author notes: I realize the pacing throughout this was clumsy at best but I didn't know how else to properly foreshadow things without some build-up. Not that I properly foreshadowed things.


End file.
